King Peter's Wife, Warrior of Narnia
by aella275
Summary: A tale of endless love
1. Introduction

Everyone knows the tale of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis. The entire world knows of the hundred-year winter, of the great battle between Aslan and the White Witch. We know of the four Pevensie children, their victory, and how they fulfilled the prophecy of Cair Paravel. However, hardly any of us know of a very important character, a character that influenced and changed the life of Peter Pevensie forever. This character fought in the battle of Narnia, against a foe greater than any other creature had fought against. This book is based on her diary, kept by Professor Kirke, unbeknownst to the world due to Peter Pevensie. This is the story of Aella, daughter of Jadis, warrior of Narnia.


	2. Chapter 1

_Cold, black fear gripped the air as she raced through the woods. Someone was chasing her, the pungent smell of heat, hair, and dirt mixed together stinging her nostrils_ _and filling her burning lungs. The faceless being continued to advance, getting closer and closer every second. She could not take any more. She slowed, preparing to give herself up to the monster. _

_Suddenly, large muscular arms grabbed her out of nowhere, and she was swung onto a horse's_ _back. She turned her head as the horse reared, preparing to stamp on the creature, looking straight into the largest, deadliest, cruelest yellow eyes... eyes that would haunt her for an eternity..._

"No! No, stop! Get away from me! Get away, you demons! NO!"

Aella continued to scream as she thrashed and kicked uncontrollably, still half asleep, trying to keep the yellow eyes at bay.

"Aella!" Oreius the centaur pounded his way over to Aella, and immediately pulled her into his arms in a strong hug, keeping her still. "What happened? What's wrong?"

Aella's breathing slowed, now in painful gasps, and her body became still and limp as she calmed down.

"Nothing," she said, hugging him back gently. "Just a dream. Just a stupid dream. It's nothing."

Oreius let go of her, placing her back down on the straw mat where Aella slept, kneeling beside her. "The same one?" he asked.

Aella nodded. "It's never been this bad before. It gets worse every time!"

Oreius nodded gravely. "Do you think your dreams are trying to tell you something?"

She laughed. "I'm only half witch, Oreius. I don't dream prophetic dreams."

Oreius smiled. "Well, praise Aslan that you are not like your mother," he said.

"I'd rather die than be like my mother!" she snapped. "She's evil!"

Oreius stood, his somber face expressionless. "I apologize," he said quietly. "I was not thinking."

Aella smiled. "You are forgiven, friend."

Aella rose at dawn with Oreius, rested and fresh, and they both went out of their cave into the glen to complete Aella's training as a soldier. Every day, she was put to tests, shooting targets, climbing trees, and lifting boulders to build up the strength in her arms. She raced with her friends, she practiced sword fighting, and she always beat every single opponent, although some were harder than others.

Oreius had found Aella five years previous, beaten, abused, and tired. She had run away from home, away from her abusive mother, but Oreius knew nothing about her father. Oreius had taken her in and raised her, surprised not only at her skill with weaponry, but her magic powers as well. Aella had the power of the Four Elements: Fire, Water, Earth, and Air. She could fly, swim for hours without needing to breathe, create lava, lift the largest of boulders, and shoot fireballs from her hands. What she could not control, however, was the incessant winter upon the land of Narnia.

For a long time, the "Queen" of Narnia, the White Witch, had caused the land to be covered with snow and freezing cold, but Father Christmas never came. "Always winter, and never Christmas," the native animals would say. Oreius often told Aella of the prophecy of Cair Paravel: Two Sons of Adam and two Daughters of Eve would one day defeat the White Witch along with the help of Aslan, creator of Narnia, fill the four thrones of Cair Paravel, and end the winter upon Narnia.

Now, a hundred years was almost up, and Oreius was training Aella in preparation for the battle, although she was unaware of the upcoming battle. Aella had trained herself very hard in the ways of weaponry and strategic planning. She owned a bow, a quiver of arrows that never emptied, daggers that she could throw and would return as soon as the target was dead (she practiced on imps that infested part of her cave), an unbreakable sword, and a shrinking staff. She also had a friend, Griff, a gryphon who was the epitome of happiness; playful, cheerful, and slightly serious, but always optimistic.

Two days after Aella's nightmare, a Faun came racing toward the cave where Oreius and Aella lived. Aella was playing with one of her daggers, and did not notice him until she nearly snipped off some of his hair.

"Oh, dear! I'm sorry!" she said, as the Faun clapped a hand to his head.

"Oh, do not worry, miss," he said, removing his hand and checking it for blood. "No blood has been drawn, no harm done."

He marched into the cave, folding his umbrella, his eyes darting. "Is Captain Oreius about? I have urgent news."

Aella's eyebrows rose. "Well, I don't know anything about a Captain," she said. "However, Oreius is here. Oreius!"

Oreius came galloping from the trees to the cave almost immediately, his expression alarmed. "What is it? What is wrong?" he asked urgently.

"This Faun wishes to speak to a _Captain_ Oreius," she said, her arms folded. "Is that you? Or is there another Oreius about that I don't know of?"

"Civilize your tongue!" Oreius barked. "I am indeed Captain Oreius. Aella, leave at once. This Faun and I must converse privately."

"But -"

"Now, Aella!"

Aella rolled her eyes, and flew off straight into the sky. However, when she was sure Oreius could not see her, she turned, looped around behind the trees, and landed quietly on the top of the cave. Oreius and the Faun were still at the entrance, conversing quietly, but Aella could hear every word they said.

"...Sure she's a Daughter of Eve?" Oreius was asking, his expression graver still.

"She said so herself!" the Faun said, twisting his umbrella in his hands. "She came out of nowhere, just standing at the lamppost, looking lost. She said she had not come from Narnia, but a strange place called War Drobe in the land of Spare Oom. Have you ever heard of it?"

"I have not!"

"Neither have I. However, that is beside the point. The point is she has siblings. A sister and two brothers. Four children! Two Sons of Adam, and two Daughters of Eve! And I've had word from the Beaver family that Aslan is on the move!"

"That is so. An army is assembling at the Stone Table as we speak. Every creature you can think of that is not in the Witch's favor."

"Even giants? What about the Buffin family?"

"They have disappeared. The giants who aren't dead or missing are on the Witch's side. We have none."

"Will it be enough?"

"With Aslan's help, it may be."

The Faun shook his head fearfully. "Alas, we cannot know for sure if the children I spoke of _are_ the ones to fulfill the prophecy. What about your girl? Is she not a Daughter of Eve?"

Aella bit her lip angrily. How dare this Faun degrade her by calling her a mere human!

"Aella is no Daughter of Eve," Oreius was saying. "She is half-mortal, half-sorceress. One of her parents was human, but she is not a Daughter of Eve, Tumnus. If she knew you called her that, she would be greatly offended."

Tumnus bowed, blushing furiously. "I apologize, Captain."

"No apologies needed, Tumnus."

_Oh, you think so? _Aella thought furiously.

"What will you do now?" Oreius continued. "The Witch must surely know of your treachery by this time. You guided the Daughter of Eve back to her home, instead of turning her over to the Witch for her to kill. That is a severe branch of treason."

"I do not care!" Tumnus said passionately. "That girl was the sweetest being I have ever met! I will take the consequences."

"Is it far to your home?"

"An hour's walk."

"Will you travel alone?"

"I must. I need to visit the Beavers' home on the way. 'Tis an errand I have to do alone."

Oreius nodded gravely. "If you must."

Tumnus bowed again, trying to put a brave expression on his face, but failing slightly. "I must clear a few things up back home before I can come to join the army. If I do not make it back to the Stone Table, will you tell Miss Lucy Pevensie what happened?"

"I will. A safe journey to you, Tumnus Faun."

Tumnus bowed once more, and raced off, his red scarf flapping.

Oreius sighed. "You can come down from there, Aella. No need to hide from me anymore."


	3. Chapter 2

Aella sighed, grimaced, and jumped down from the cave lip, landing gracefully, barely touching the snow. She stood defiantly in front of Oreius, folding her arms and frowning.

"You did not tell me that the battle was coming so soon," she said. "You didn't even tell me Aslan was on his way!"

"Those are things you do not need to know," Oreius said solemnly. "Those are secret, and need to stay that way as long as possible. We cannot announce them right away. They must announce themselves."

"Oh, and you're doing an absolutely brilliant job doing just that right now!"

"Civilize your tongue! I will not have this insubordination!"

"I'm your adopted daughter, not your soldier!"

"You live in my home, under my rules! I will do and say whatever I wish! And you will obey me!"

"If I am going to fight in this battle and help defeat the White Witch, I need to know what is going on! I can and must defeat her!"

"This is not only YOUR battle! This is all of Narnia's battle! Once you realize that, then maybe I will let you fight in the battle!"

Aella twisted her braid in her hand tiredly. They'd had this argument before, and it grew more wearisome every time. "What will happen to the Faun? What will happen to Tumnus?" she asked, changing the subject.

Oreius did not answer, only creased his brow.

"Tell me, Oreius!" Aella shouted.

Oreius sighed. "Do you swear not to do anything rash?" he asked concernedly.

Aella nodded.

"He... he will be captured by the Queen's police. Maugrim will lead them. He will be turned to stone by the Queen."

Aella gasped, and clutched her heart as a searing pain burst through it. Her heart thudded in her ears, and she grew weary and faint as the nightmare from two nights previous replayed in her mind. Suddenly, she felt as if her whole body was on fire, and she screamed from the pain.

"Aella!" Oreius shouted, slapping her face to revive her. Aella sank to the ground in shock, panting. The pain was gone, and she could see again, her mind clearing.

"Are you sure?" she asked in a small voice.

"If the Queen doesn't find out, then he will be fine," Oreius said, scrutinizing her carefully. "If she does… he will be captured."

"And you let him go alone?" Aella roared, rising to her feet.

"There is nothing we can do! The army is not fully assembled, and there is no one who can keep him safe. To protect him, he needs a small army at his side, which no one has right now, not even Aslan."

"But Maugrim-"

"Maugrim cannot be stopped! You of all people know perfectly well how powerful he is. Aella, there isn't anything we can do. I have no weapons yet. All the woodland smiths are working furiously, but we are behind schedule. If I send an army to protect Tumnus, they will be captured as well and taken by the Queen. _There is nothing we can do_."

Aella stared ahead of her, not looking at Oreius. She could not understand why he was holding back. Tumnus needed their help! There had to be a way. Her mind worked furiously, trying to think of an idea.

"All right," she said resignedly, giving up. "I understand. There's nothing we can do."

On the next day, Aella quietly and glumly resumed her training. She had racked her brain all night, trying to think of a way to help Tumnus. She couldn't sneak off at night because Oreius was a light sleeper. She might have been able to fly, but so could Griff. All Oreius had to do was ask, and Griff would bring Aella back. She flipped through the air, exercising for her race with Griff.

"Oreius?" she asked, looking around confusedly. "Where's Griff? We were supposed to race today!"

Oreius sighed. "Griff left, Aella. He and Marbrush went to the Stone Table to join the army. I thought you could handle racing on your own today."

Aella's eyes opened wide. "He's gone?" she asked, a feeling of hope rising in her stomach. "They left?"

"Yes," said Oreius, his eyebrow rising. "I was under the impression you would be distressed."

Aella inwardly cursed. She'd always had difficulty hiding her emotions, though she was learning fast.

"No," she said, a slight smile creeping up her face. "I'm perfectly fine. I'll race you instead."

She smiled, and Oreius hesitated.

"Well…" he said uncertainly. "All right."

He stepped up to the line Aella drew, and both crouched into a racing position. Before anyone could say, "Go!" Aella took off. At first, she simply ran, Oreius at her tail. Then, she suddenly pushed off and flew into the air, ignoring Oreius' calls. She sped through the air faster than the fastest arrow. She looped around and blasted into her cave, picking up her weapons and strapping them on in the air, also tucking an extra dagger into her left boot.

Suddenly, Oreius came galloping into view, and Aella playfully flitted out of his reach.

"It'll be all right, Oreius!" she called down to him. "I can help Tumnus and stop Maugrim! It'll soon be over!"

"You cannot!" Oreius protested reaching for her in vain. "You cannot even hear his name without becoming ill and scared. I won't let you!"

"I must go! I can kill Maugrim! Maybe then the dreams will be over." Aella smiled warmly and comfortingly. "You are a true friend, Oreius. Don't worry, I will be victorious!"

"Aella! AELLA!"

But his cry was not heeded.

Aella sped across the sky, heading in the direction whence the Faun Tumnus came. She knew she was not far from the Beavers' house; she had visited them before. She had also once seen the lamppost, but that was dim in her memory. It was so long ago… her mind traveled to a happy but distant memory…

S_he was eight years old, and she was riding on a beautiful horse towards the lamppost. She was racing against her father, a kind man with a face bursting with laughter. Snow was falling thickly, and the horse Aella was riding on was stamping up a flurry. Aella started to cry as the horse reared, but her father caught her, and brought her into a fierce hug…_

Aella shook her head, banishing the memory. That was a long time ago, and those days had been over for years. It was no use reflecting. Instead, Aella started to think about what Christmas might be like. She had never experienced Christmas; the Winter had started long before she was born. Griff and his satyr friend Marbrush had often told her stories of Christmas. Stories of dancing satyrs and Fauns, loud joyful music, enormous feasts, and large fir trees decorated with sparkles and ornaments and popcorn. "Large bonfires would roar everywhere, and after we feasted, we'd give each other gifts. And whenever we least expected it, Father Christmas would come!" Marbrush would say excitedly. "He'd give us all wonderful gifts, exactly what we needed or wanted. Christmas was always the best time of year."

Aella smiled dreamily, trying to imagine what Christmas would be like. Luscious food, gifts, shining trees! It all seemed so breathtaking!

She swooped lower, snapping out of her trance and trying to see better of the landscape. She could see the Beavers' home in the distance! She drifted toward the little dam, and gracefully landed on the ice. Mrs. Beaver was bustling around, packing mud on the dam and filling in holes, scooping the mud from a steaming kettle. She started as Aella called out a greeting to her.

"Oh! Dearie, you frightened me!" she said, waddling over to her, her plump face beaming. "How are you? Oh, you look freezing! And so thin! Tsk, tsk, I've told Oreius many times he's not feeding you enough. I've said it before; you need warmer clothes than that silly green tunic and those thin leggings. You must come inside and get warm! Would you like something to eat? I've just caught some fresh fish! It's salmon, as a matter of fact. Your favorite! Quite plump and healthy looking." Mrs. Beaver fussed and pulled Aella along toward the dam, but Aella held firm.

"I appreciate your kindness, Mrs. Beaver, but I am on urgent business," she said, wrenching her hand out of Mrs. Beaver's grasp. "Where is Mr. Beaver? I must speak with him immediately."

Mrs. Beaver gazed at her in surprise. "He's not here, dearie. I'm sorry, I don't know where he went. I… I believe he said something about a Faun, or something or other. Or maybe he went to Badger's. I apologize, I don't know."

Aella creased her brow and sighed. "Did a Faun named Tumnus stop by your house?" she asked.

"Why yes! He gave Mr. Beaver something, a little square white object. He said something about "treason" and a "Daughter of Eve." Quite disturbing, really."

Aella started, and knelt down on the ground, trying to get eye level with Mrs. Beaver. "This is an emergency, Mrs. Beaver. Which way did Mr. Beaver go? Where did he go?"

"Northwest, dearie. Toward Tumnus' house." Mrs. Beaver's face wrinkled with worry. "Is everything all right, dearie? You look awful!"

Without another word, Aella zoomed off northwestward, cursing the late hour. Faster and faster she flew, ignoring the icy wind stinging her eyes. She opened her hand, creating a ball of fire to guide her. Below her, she could see the iron lamppost!

"Almost there…" she muttered, wiping a trickle of blood from her eye. She kept flying, keeping an eye out for Tumnus or Beaver.

Suddenly, she could see a large, dark blob on the snow, but she could not obtain the details. She circled lower, landing in a large oak tree to get a better look.

She saw four humans, two boys and two girls, all huddled and clutching each other in fear except for one of the boys, who was sulking off to the side. The tallest boy had sandy blonde hair and was quite handsome, while the other was darker-haired and surly looking. The older girl had long dark hair and a serious face, while the littlest girl had closely cut brown hair with a face that looked like it was made for laughing, but was now tear streaked and scared. All four were wearing the strangest assortment of clothes Aella had ever seen, including long, overlarge, fur coats!

_Well, they certainly aren't from Narnia, _Aella thought ruefully. _No one in their right minds wear fur coats here! _

Suddenly, out from behind a large mound of snow came Mr. Beaver! He scurried quickly and cautiously towards the children, who seemed extremely surprised.

"It… it's a beaver!" the littlest girl exclaimed, as if she'd never seen one before.

The handsome boy crouched low, and started making clicking noises with his teeth. "Heeeere, boy!" he said, snapping his fingers. What in the name of Aslan was he doing?

As Mr. Beaver inched towards them, the boy opened his hand. Mr. Beaver pulled an offended and disgusted face.

"I ain't gonna smell it, if that's what you want," he said, folding his stubby little arms.

All four children opened their eyes wide in shock. They were surprised at hearing a beaver talk? Very strange!

The boy shrunk away from Mr. Beaver, muttering an apology, while the younger sister giggled.

"It's a talking beaver!" the surly boy said amazedly.

"Of course he's talking!" Aella shouted sharply. She jumped from the tree and landed lightly next to Mr. Beaver, staring straight at the stunned children. "You've never heard a beaver talk before? It's rude to stare!"

"Hush, girl!" Mr. Beaver said urgently. "You'll give us away!"

He turned to the band of children, looking directly at the littlest girl. "Lucy Pevensie?" he asked gently.

The littlest girl stared at him in shock, but walked bravely up to Mr. Beaver. "Yes?" she asked in a squeaky voice.

Mr. Beaver reached out his small paw towards Lucy, a small crumpled white object in his hand.

Lucy gasped. "Hey!" she said, taking it from Mr. Beaver. "That's the hankie I gave to Mr.-"

"Tumnus," Mr. Beaver said, sadly finishing the sentence. "He got it to me just before they took him."

"Is he all right?" Lucy asked.

"Wait a minute! Took him?" Aella gasped. "What do you mean, they took him?"

Suddenly, the little Lucy girl began to cry, burying her face into the oldest boy's hip.

"He was captured," the older girl said, patting her sister's head. "Captured by the police, by someone named Maugrim."

Aella blanched. "Then I am too late," she cried. She roared in anger, hurling one of her daggers into the ground and scaring the others.

"Maugrim!" she screamed into the sky. "You'd better run, you stupid animal, because I'm going to find you, and I'm going to kill you! You stupid animal, I'm going to kill you!"

The oldest boy raced over to her and clapped a hand over her mouth. "Are you mad? They'll hear you! We'll be caught!"

Aella artfully twisted herself out of the boy's grasp, and twisted his arm. She lifted him into the air, and slammed him down on the ground, pushing her foot on his chest. "Don't ever sneak up on me! Don't EVER touch me like that! Heck, don't ever touch me at all!"

"Peter!" the Lucy girl called out.

"Let him go! Who do you think you are?" the surly boy shouted. He tried to advance to help his brother, but was held back by the older girl.

Aella stared hatefully into the Peter boy's eyes, panting and drinking in the shock and fear. As she stared, however, she also caught a small hint of bravery, determination, and loyalty in those eyes, things that she never saw when she threatened the monsters she had battled against in her years. It made her hateful feeling melt away, and she let go of Peter.

"My apologies," she said bluntly offering her hand to him. Peter took it reluctantly, and Aella smiled sheepishly. She then turned to Mr. Beaver.

"Let's go," she said. "We're not safe here. Further in?"

Mr. Beaver nodded. Aella nodded back, and took off flying again, keeping a lookout for spies. However, after a few minutes, she flew more slowly and doubled back, watching and listening to the troupe below, who were talking about her.

"Is she safe?" The older girl was asking.

"Oh, do not worry about Aella," Mr. Beaver chuckled. "She may have a rough exterior, but inside she has a heart more beautiful than that face of hers."

"Yes," Peter said softly. "She is very beautiful."

Aella gasped quietly. No one had ever called her beautiful before!

"But she nearly killed Peter!" Lucy said fearfully.

"She's got too many burdens on her shoulders. She's become very vengeful in the five years that I've known her." Mr. Beaver said quietly. "However, don't be thinkin' she's a cold-blooded killer! Far from it! However, she is bitter. Especially against Maugrim and… _Her_," he shivered. "Aella wants Her dead more than any Narnian I know. I just wish I knew why."

"Is she human?" the older girl asked.

"Don't be stupid, Susan," the surly boy said snidely. "No human can fly!"

"She's half human," Mr. Beaver explained patiently. "Don't know which one, but one parent was human, the other a sorcerer. So, she's fifty-fifty."

"Is there any way we can help her?" Lucy asked.

"Love her," Mr. Beaver said. "And be kind, but sincere about it. If there's anything she hates, it's when she knows people are lying to her. And don't ever, _ever _get in her way when she's on the hunt for Maugrim."

"Love her?" the surly boy said incredulously. "She's crazy! How can we love someone who's completely mad?"

"Edmund, how dare you talk about her like that?" Peter yelled, grabbing the surly one's collar. "If you ever speak about her like that again-"

"Peter, not now!" Susan yelled, grabbing Peter's arm. "You heard the Beaver, it isn't safe!"

Aella could stand no more. She sped ahead, scanning below for the Beavers' dam, her mind buzzing with the conversation she just heard. She did not mind the Edmund boy, she was used to being called crazy from the rude little hedgehog that lived close to her cave. What shook her was the kind things Mr. Beaver and Peter had said about her. The Peter boy hardly knew her, and yet he was defending her. Was it pity, or an act of friendship? The only love she had ever received was from Oreius and her father. The feeling was slightly alien to her. She had a lot of difficulty knowing exactly what love was. She had not even received a simple kiss from someone for five long years. And yet, as she cast her mind's eye to Peter's face, butterflies arose in her stomach. What was this strange feeling? What did it all mean?

Suddenly, she could see smoke rising ahead of her. She swooped lower, and saw it was the Beavers' dam, but Mrs. Beaver was no longer outside. She landed on the ice, and she could see the troupe approaching. Aella knocked on the door, and out popped Mrs. Beaver's round, kind face.

"Oh, dearie, you're back!" she said delightedly. "I was worried! You took off so quickly, I was afraid I had offended you!"

"Oh, Mrs. Beaver, you could never offend me," Aella said kindly. "But yes, I am back! So is Mr. Beaver. _And _we have company too."

She stepped aside, displaying Mr. Beaver and the children.

"Beaver? Is that you?" Mrs. Beaver called, not quite seeing them just yet. "I've been worried sick! If I find you've been out with Badger again… oh my… well, those aren't badgers!"

She gasped and slowly walked towards the children. "Oh, I never thought I'd live to see this day!" She fussed with her fur and whiskers, extremely flustered. "Oh, look at my fur! You couldn't give me ten minutes warning?"

Mr. Beaver smiled cheekily. "I'd have given you a week if I thought it would've helped."

The children laughed silently, watching Mrs. Beaver click her tongue angrily at her husband.

"Oh, come in," she said to the children. "I'll see if we can't you some food, and some _civilized _company." She glared at her husband, who chuckled sheepishly.


	4. Chapter 3

After much fussing from Mrs. Beaver, everyone sat down around the little table, Aella squeezing between Mr. Beaver and Susan. Mrs. Beaver prepared a meal of salmon and woodchips (fish and chips), while Mr. Beaver conversed with the four newcomers, informing them of Aslan's coming, the Whit Witch's power, and the prophecy of Cair Paravel. The children interrupted often, asking the most ridiculous questions. "Who is Aslan?" "Is he human?" "Would the Witch be able to turn him to stone?" "Is he safe?" Each question was answered patiently by Mr. Beaver, but sometimes impatiently by Aella. Aella was eager to move on and help Tumnus, but Mr. Beaver insisted upon enlightening the children.

"Don't you dunderheads get it?" Aella shouted angrily, finally losing all her temper. "You are the Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve who will save Narnia! The Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve who will defeat the White Witch, and fill the four thrones of Cair Paravel! You, along with Aslan and his army, will help end the terrible winter, and restore justice and freedom to Narnia!"

A ringing silence fell after Aella's hasty speech. Both Susan and Peter looked extremely doubtful. Then, little Lucy spoke up in a strong voice.

"And Mr. Tumnus?" she asked. "Is there anything we can do for him?"

"Only Aslan can save him," said Mr. Beaver. "And to find him, we need to get to the Stone Table. We'll have to walk a long way, but with Aella's help, it will be easier."

"An army is assembling at the Stone Table as we speak," Aella said. "When you four get there, they will have the strength and courage to fight harder, knowing their kings and queens are present and leading them. They will fight for you. With you four at our side, we can win this battle!"

"I think you've made a mistake," Peter spoke up, a grave expression on his face. "We're not heroes!"

"Thank you for your hospitality," Susan said, standing. "But we really have to go!"

"No, you can't just leave!" Mr. Beaver protested.

"He's right," Lucy said quietly. "We have to help Mr. Tumnus."

"I'm sorry, Lu," Susan said, patting her shoulder. "There is nothing we can do."

"Oh, yes there is!" Aella shouted. "You're just too cowardly to do it!"

"How dare you call me a coward?" Susan yelled, anger blazing on her face.

"I'm sorry," Peter said, quellingly, standing up. He looked straight into Aella's face, which bore a fierce but scared expression. His blue eyes held fierce determination, and Aella knew it would take a lot to change his mind, but she did not care.

"It's out of our hands. It's time the four of us were getting home. Ed? Ed?"

It was at that moment that everyone realized that Edmund was missing.

Peter's face contorted with rage. "I'm going to kill him," he growled.

"You may not have to," Mr. Beaver said quietly. "Has Edmund ever been here before?"

"Yes," Lucy said, quietly. "But-"

Her eyes opened wide as she comprehended what was going on. "He's met her," she whispered in shock. "We have to find him! Hurry!"

Everyone raced outside, trying to follow Edmund's quickly disappearing footprints. It was snowing heavily, making it hard to see anything, let alone the footprints of a thirteen-year-old boy. Aella flew forward, faster than a bullet, ahead of the others, ignoring their calls. She was determined to find the stupid Edmund boy before he gave them away to-

Suddenly, a large castle made entirely of ice loomed before her, causing her to stop in her tracks. The icy palace gleamed in the light of the setting sun, causing it to look like a large glass citadel. To another being, the sight would've seemed magnificent, a sight worth staring at. But to Aella, it was a sight that filled her with dread and fear. The sight filled her mind with haunting memories: _her being shepherded by ogres to her room, many tear-filled nights, and the terrified, bloody face of her father._

Aella collapsed on the ground, her face deathly pale. She clutched her stomach, retched, and vomited incessantly on the ground. She couldn't stop, the vomit kept coming, and when there was nothing left in her stomach, blood poured out of her mouth. She hacked and coughed and spit, but it still kept coming.

This is how she was when Mr. Beaver and the humans caught up with her. Peter raced over to her, and pulled her in his arms. She drifted in and out of consciousness, but she had thankfully stopped vomiting.

"What's wrong with her?" Aella could hear Susan yelling, but she could not see her face.

"I don't know," Peter said, his concerned face hazy in Aella's vision. She could feel something cold on her forehead; Mr. Beaver had put snow on it to cool her fever.

"This is the White Witch's palace," he said, worriedly. "I know she hates her, but… I've never seen her like this! I've known Aella to be the strongest, toughest being I've ever met! She's never been sick a day in her life!"

"Look!" Lucy yelled.

Aella felt Peter stand, still carrying her in his arms. She could also feel him breathing heavily, his chest pushing into her side.

"Edmund!" Lucy yelled, her cry piercing Aella's head. She moaned softly from the pain.

"SSH! They'll hear you!" Mr. Beaver said hastily.

Suddenly, Aella felt herself being lowered back onto the snow, and she heard heavy footsteps beginning to run.

"No!" Mr. Beaver shouted. "You're playing into her hands!"

"Get off!" Peter shouted.

"We can't just let him go!" Susan shouted as she knelt down, gathering Aella into her arms.

"He's our brother!" Lucy said shockingly.

"He's the bait!" Mr. Beaver cried. "The Witch wants all four of ya!"

"Why?" Peter asked.

"To stop the prophecy from comin' true! To kill ya!"

"This is all your fault!" Susan shouted at Peter, after a few moments of shocked silence.

"My fault?" Peter retorted.

"None of this would have happened if you had just listened to me in the first place!"

"Oh, so you knew this would happen?"

"I didn't know what would happen, which is why we should have left while we still could!"

"Stop it!" Lucy shrieked. Silence fell as everyone stared at Lucy, who looked very angry. Aella moaned again, trying to move her arm to clutch her head, but could not.

"This isn't going to help Edmund," Lucy said. "And look, can't you see we're hurting Aella?" She pointed as Aella started crying slightly. Peter dropped down to the ground and collected more snow to put on her forehead.

"She's right," Mr. Beaver said. "Only Aslan can help your brother now."

"Then take us to him," Peter said softly, gazing at the icy palace.

"Hurry, Mother!" Mr. Beaver shouted as they burst into the dam. "They're after us!"

"Oh! Right then!" Mrs. Beaver said, practically, oddly cool for such a dire situation.

She hurried along the house, packing up bits of food, knives, and whatever else she could carry. She tried tending to the still-half-conscious Aella, but Mr. Beaver wouldn't let her.

"What's she doing?" Peter asked, as the clanking noise Mrs. Beaver was making resounded in Aella's sore head.

"You'll be thanking me later," Mrs. Beaver answered, still clanking. "It's a long journey, and Beaver here gets pretty cranky when he's hungry."

"I'm cranky now!" Mr. Beaver bellowed, causing Aella to scream in pain as his voice sliced through her head.

"Do you think we need jam?" Susan asked, bustling around to help Mrs. Beaver.

"Only if the Witch serves toast," said Peter sarcastically, kneeling and rocking Aella to calm her.

Suddenly, a loud chorus of wolves' howls resounded outside the dam. Scratching noises followed, along with bits of dirt falling from the walls.

"They're here! They're coming!" Mrs. Beaver shrieked.

"Quickly!" Mr. Beaver pulled open a small door on the wall of the dam, exposing a tunnel. "This will get us out of here!"

Everyone dropped into the tunnel, picking up lanterns and quickly lighting them. Aella felt a strange heat as she felt Peter stretch out his hand. She realized then he was carrying a torch, as he cradled her in one arm, her feet dragging on the ground, her head lolling.

"Badger and me dug this," Mr. Beaver explained. "Comes up right near his place!"

"You said this led to your mum's!" Mrs. Beaver complained.

Aella felt Peter crouch low, and run doggedly through the earthy tunnel. Her head scraped against the stony wall, so, with all the strength she could muster, she grabbed onto Peter's coat, and pulled herself up, burying her face in his neck.

"Aella! Are you all right?" Peter asked concernedly, struggling to hold her steady and run crouched at the same time.

"Father…" she moaned, her head rolling. "Father… where is… my father…?"

"I don't know where he is, Aella," Peter cried, holding her closer. "I'm sorry!"

"Oh no!" Mr. Beaver's voice cut through their mutterings. They'd reached a dead end!

"You should to bring a map!" Mrs. Beaver reprimanded, panicking.

"There was no room, next to the jam!" Mr. Beaver retorted, doubling back.

As they raced onward, Aella's eyes suddenly rolled back into her head, and she hung limp in Peter's arms again. She slid, and Peter struggled to hold her steady. "Maugrim…" she rasped. "Maugrim…"

Suddenly, she screamed aloud as a blazing pain coursed through her once again. She shook and gasped so violently that Peter had to stop.

"She's having a seizure!" Peter yelled, lying her down on the ground and stroking her head. "She was calling for Maugrim!"

_Cold, black fear gripped the air as she raced through the woods. Someone was chasing her, the pungent smell of heat, hair, and dirt mixed together stung her nostrils_ _and filled her burning lungs. The faceless being continued to advance, getting closer and closer every second, laughing cruelly as if it was the best time of his life. She could not take any more. She slowed, preparing to give herself up to the monster. She could no longer run… she was going to die._

_Suddenly, large muscular arms grabbed her out of nowhere, and she was swung onto a horse's_ _back. She turned her head as the horse reared, preparing to stamp on the creature, looking straight into the largest, deadliest, cruelest yellow eyes... eyes that would haunt her for an eternity...eyes that belonged to a wolf. _

Aella screamed again as the pain seared through her body as the dream replayed in her mind. The pain was like cold fire… it burned inside her and raged through her entire body. She tried to stop screaming, she knew it was useless… but screaming was a sign of weakness.

_I am not weak!_ she thought, trying to convince herself of that. Then, as quickly as it had come, the pain stopped, and she fainted, her body becoming limp once again.

"Quickly!" Mr. Beaver yelled, and Peter picked Aella up with one arm, and carried her through the tunnel, forcing Susan and Lucy ahead of him

Suddenly, soft moonlight shone before them as the mouth of the tunnel appeared. They all squeezed out as the howling of the wolves grew louder. Peter pushed the unconscious Aella out of the tunnel before him, Susan pulling on her arms. She laid Aella on the snow to cool her fever.

"Hurry! Block the tunnel with this!" Mr. Beaver cried, rolling a barrel over to Peter, who obeyed.

Suddenly, Aella finally stirred in the snow, opening her eyes and coughing. She clutched her head, breathing raggedly.

"Aella!" Peter rushed over and laid her head in his lap. "Mr. and Mrs. Beaver, Lucy, come quickly!"

But they were not listening. Lucy was staring, horrified, at a small stone family of squirrels that she had tripped over, their little faces scared and crying in pain. The Beavers were staring at a large stone statue of a Badger, which was screaming in terror and his hands clasped. Behind him was a stone female badger, her paw held out as if she were trying to save Badger, but had failed.

"I'm so sorry, dear," Mrs. Beaver said sorrowfully.

"He was my best mate," Mr. Beaver said, his face full of shock.

Peter picked Aella up, and he carried her as he walked around the scene, gazing around in shock. A bulldog and some warthogs were frozen as well. "What happened here?" he demanded.

"This is what happens to those who cross the Witch," a voice spoke up out of nowhere.

A large red fox burst out of nowhere from behind a tree, and pranced over to the Beavers. He had a very arrogant but mysterious air about him.

"You take one more step, traitor, and I'll chew you to splinters!" Mr. Beaver yelled. He tried to advance on him, but Mrs. Beaver held him back.

The Fox sneered. "Relax! I'm one of the good guys."

"Oh yeah?" Mr. Beaver growled. "Well, you look an awful lot like one of the bad ones!"

The Fox sighed exasperatedly. "An unfortunate family resemblance," he said. "But we can argue breeding later. Right now, we've got to move."

A loud chorus of wolves resounded in the tunnel behind them. They were close… the wolves would soon be upon them. The only person who knew how to use a sword was barely conscious, so they could not fight. Taking charge, Peter made the choice to follow the Fox's plan.

"What did you have in mind?"

Maugrim burst from the cave through the barrel, snarling brutishly. He and the rest of the wolf pack sniffed around the clearing, but neither saw nor smelled any trace of the children. What they did see, however, was the Fox, brushing away footprints with his tail.

"You!" Maugrim growled, his muzzle pressed close to the Fox's.

"Greetings, gents! Lost something, have we?" the Fox replied jovially.

"Don't patronize me! I know where your allegiance lies! We're looking for some humans."

The Fox laughed. "Humans? Here in Narnia? That's a valuable bit of information, don't you think?"

Maugrim barked, and one of the wolves grabbed the Fox by the back with his teeth. The Fox hung in midair, yelping and barking in pain.

"Your reward is your life," Maugrim snarled, baring his teeth. "It's not much… but still…" he laughed cruelly. "Where are the fugitives?"

The Fox lifted his head weakly, panting and gasping. Then, he hung limply in defeat, his eyes downcast.

"North," he replied weakly. "They ran north."

Maugrim snorted, and bared his yellow teeth. "Smell them out," he barked.

The wolves let out a chorus of howling, then raced off northward, leaving the Fox to writhe in pain.

Peter, Susan, Lucy, Aella, and Mr. and Mrs. Beaver climbed down from the large tree they had been hiding in, Aella on Peter's back. They hadn't headed northward at all, but hid right above the wolves' heads!

Peter quickly put a fire on, while Mrs. Beaver tended to the Fox's wounds. They all rested and ate, Aella's strength slowly returning as she lay her head on Peter's lap.

"They were helping Tumnus," the Fox explained, looking sadly at the badger and squirrels. "The Witch got here before I did. Ah! Ouch! Be careful!" he yelped at Mrs. Beaver.

"Oh, stop squirming!" Mrs. Beaver scolded, patching up his final wound. "You're worse than Beaver on bath day!"

Mr. Beaver shook his head. "Worse day of the year," he muttered.

"Thank you, for your kindness," said the Fox, standing gingerly. "It has been a pleasure, Your Majesties, but I must be off. Aslan himself has asked me to gather more troops."

The Beavers and Aella gasped in wonder. "You've seen Aslan?" Mr. Beaver asked.

"What's he like?" Mrs. Beaver inquired.

The Fox smiled. "Like everything we've ever heard," he answered. He turned to the Pevensie children and bowed deeply, and he raced off.

Aella stared dead ahead into the fire as the silence stretched, her head clearing of the pain. "I should've killed him when I had the chance," she murmured. "I had the strength to pick up my bow, or my dagger. I should've killed him. Maugrim was right in front of me, and I couldn't kill him."

Peter reached his hand to her face, and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Sshh," he whispered. "There was nothing you could've done. If you had killed him, you would've given us away, and we wouldn't have been able to get down from that tree. You're too weak to fire that bow properly anyway."

"I'm not weak!" Aella yelled, attempting to stand, but nearly falling into the fire. Peter grabbed her, but she weakly beat her fists against his chest, trying to break free. "I can kill him! I have to kill him!"

Peter held Aella tightly in his arms against her struggles. "It's okay, Aella, it's okay! You will kill him! That just wasn't the time! You're not weak. Don't worry, you're not weak." Aella slowed down, and Peter sat down with her again, stroking her hair comfortingly.

Mr. Beaver gazed at Aella, who was gasping for breath. "Do you see now?" he asked. "Do you see now why the Witch must be stopped? Look at how much she's put this girl through! She can't even look at a castle of ice without becoming seriously sick! She needs you! Narnia needs you! We can't go to war without you."

Peter sighed. "We just want our brother back," he said, quietly.


	5. Chapter 4

On the next day, everyone rose early and started off for their journey to the Stone Table. Aella was strong enough to walk, but still to weak to fly. So, as she supported herself on her staff, she spent her time conversing with the others, instead of isolating herself like she normally did. She found it surprisingly welcoming and comfortable.

She told the three children the joys of Narnia; Griff, Oreius, Marbrush, and the other creatures she was close to. She told them the stories Griff and Marbrush told her of the old days, stories she herself had made up, and everything she knew of Aslan and the other magical beings of Narnia. She even sang and danced to an old song Marbrush had taught her and was joined in joyfully but clumsily by Lucy.

After about an hour, the Beavers led them to the large Stone Bridge overlooking the Frozen Lake of Narnia. Past that Lake was the Great River.

"Aslan's camp is near the Stone Table, just across the Frozen River."

"River?" Peter asked worriedly.

"Oh, the River's been frozen solid for a hundred years," Mrs. Beaver said, unconcernedly.

Peter, Susan, and Lucy looked skeptically over the cliff, worried expressions upon their faces.

"It's so far," Peter remarked skeptically.

Aella gazed at him momentarily, then laughed. But this time, it was a merry laugh, a beautiful sound that made the hairs on the back of Peter's neck rise.

"It's the whole world, dear," Mrs. Beaver said kindly. "Did you expect it to be small?"

"Small_er_," said Susan wryly.

It was a slow walk across the large Frozen Lake, especially for little Lucy, who, being younger, bored easily. Aella did engage Peter in conversation, making the walk a bit easier for them both. He told her of the war back in his country, and how he and his siblings had left their home to live with a strange Son of Adam called "the Professor." He also told her none of the animals back in his world talked! To the humans there Fauns, centaurs, satyrs, gryphons, minotaurs, boggles, imps, werewolves- all those creatures were myths! They didn't even have imps!

"What about Father Christmas?" Aella asked, her eyes round. "He's a fantasy to me, Christmas ended before I was born. Is he real in your world?"

"We're not sure," Peter answered. "Some believe he's real, many don't. We never see him, he comes when we're asleep. Personally, I don't think he's real, but Lucy, on the other hand…"

Aella chuckled softly. She stared at Peter's face, unable to think of what to say. He was so handsome… his hair shined in the gleaming sunlight, his soft skin shone, making him look like an angel. His large fur coat brought out the broadness of his shoulders and chest, and she remembered the feeling of his muscles in his arms from when he carried her. However, what really intrigued her were his eyes. Those crystal blue-green eyes… they held such fierce determination, bravery, loyalty, and pride. _All the makings of a good king_, she thought, smiling slightly. He turned to her, smiling back sheepishly. They laughed, although at what, neither was sure.

"Aella," he said, taking her hand. "Do you… I know we haven't known each other long, but do you think… do you think I'm going to be a good king?"

Aella paused. She herself was not sure of the answer, despite what his eyes held. One can't judge another by their eyes. _Would_ he be a good king?

"Well…" she started, though not quite sure what to say. "I…"

"Come on, humans!" Mr. Beaver shouted, cutting her off. "While we're still young!"

Peter rolled his eyes. "If he tells us to hurry up one more time," he growled, letting go of Aella's hand and picking up a tired Lucy onto his back. "I'm going to turn him into a great, big, fluffy hat!"

Aella laughed merrily again, this time joined by Susan and Lucy.

"Hurry up! Come on!"

"He is getting a bit bossy," Lucy remarked.

"No! Behind you, it's her!" Mrs. Beaver yelled, beginning to run.

Aella turned, and saw a large sleigh pulled by reindeer with ringing bells. Only the Witch rode a sleigh pulled by reindeer…

"Go!" she yelled, putting her staff into her belt and pulling out her bow and an arrow. "I'll hold her off!"

"There's no time!" Peter yelled, putting down Lucy and running. "Hurry, run!"

As the sleigh drew closer, Aella realized Peter was right. She may be quick at firing a bow, but the Witch was quicker at turning it into stone. She ran after the others, faster than she'd ever run before, faster that Oreius had ever made her run.

She sprang onto the Lake bank, closely following Peter and Lucy. Mr. Beaver had found a little hole, which everyone was clambering into. Aella collapsed inside, squeezing in next to Peter.

Everyone held their breath as the jangling of harness bells stopped. They heard the large thumping of footsteps, and large clumps of snow fell from the lip of the hole as the figure drew close, then stopped above them. The shadow depicted a wide stocky person, contrasting to the slim, regal figure of the Witch. It had to be the Witch's evil dwarf, Ginnarbrik.

A few minutes later, the figure finally turned, and all noise stopped immediately, and the shadow disappeared.

Everyone waited a few minutes with bated breath. No sound came, no bells, no nothing!

"Maybe she's gone," Lucy whispered.

"I suppose I should go look," Peter whispered, starting to get up.

"No!" Aella gasped, pulling him back.

"You're worth nothing to Narnia dead, any of you!" Mr. Beaver whispered, looking at both Peter and Aella.

"But neither are you, Beaver!" Mrs. Beaver gasped, grasping her husband's arm.

Mr. Beaver gratefully patted his wife's hand. "Thanks sweetheart," he said, gazing into her eyes. He slowly and carefully climbed out of the hole, the others praying for his safety.

Everyone waited, all holding their breath. The silence was deafening, unbearable.

"Wait a minute," Aella whispered, her brow creasing. "The White Witch never uses bells on her sleigh!"

Suddenly, Mr. Beaver's head popped back into the hole, and everyone screamed in shock.

"Come out, come out!" He said, his face bursting with excitement. "I hope you've been good, 'cause there's someone here to see you!"

Everyone stared at Mr. Beaver confusedly. What did being good have to do with anything? What did he mean? However, they did climb out of the hole and follow Mr. Beaver.

There, standing by the bank, was indeed a large sleigh driven by reindeer, but it wasn't the White Witch inside. It was a large, white-whiskered, jolly-looking man, clad in reddish-purple leather lined with brown fur, a sword at his side. He bore the happiest, jolliest smile Aella had ever seen.

Aella drew back and fingered her dagger in its scabbard, but everyone else approached him with rapturous smiles on their faces. Aella was confused. Who was he?

"Merry Christmas, sir!" Lucy cried, running toward the man, who laughed merrily.

"It certainly is, Lucy, since you arrived," the man replied.

"Look, I've put up with a lot since I got here, but this…" Susan gasped, nearly falling to her knees.

"We thought you were the Witch!" Peter gasped.

"Yes, I'm sorry about that," the man said, gesturing towards his reindeer. "But, in my defense, I've been driving these far longer than the Witch."

"Not to be rude sir," Aella spoke up, still grasping the hilt of her dagger. "But who are you?"

"Aella, it's Father Christmas!" Peter laughed, holding his hand out to her. "This is the Father Christmas Griff and Marbrush told you about!"

Aella gasped. "It cannot be!" she whispered, dropping to the ground and bowing.

Father Christmas laughed again. "No, no not to me, Aella. Never to me."

Aella stood, blushing furiously.

"I thought there was no Christmas in Narnia," Susan said.

"No, for a long time" Father Christmas replied sadly, "But the hope that you have brought, Your Majesties, is starting to weaken the Witch's power. Still! I dare say you could do with these."

He reached into his sleigh, and grunted as he pulled out a large sack the same color and material as his coat. He plunked the sack down on the ground, revealing toys and stuffed animals inside.

"Presents!" Lucy cried, rushing forward excitedly.

Father Christmas smiled, and pulled out a belt with two scabbards; one holding a silver dagger with a lion's head and red hilt, the other a crystal, heart-shaped bottle filled with fiery-red liquid.

"The juice of the fire flower," he said, handing the belt to her. "One drop will cure any injury. And though I hope you never have to use it…" he patted the dagger.

Lucy looked disappointed. "Thank you sir, but… I think I can be brave enough!"

Father Christmas' smile widened. "I'm sure you could. But battles are ugly affairs."

He turned back to his sack, and pulled out a white quiver filled with red-feathered arrows and an oak bow, emblazoned with silver "SP." They were far finer than Aella's handmade ash bow and arrows with white goose feathers.

"Susan, trust in this bow, and it will not easily miss," he said, handing them to her.

Susan took them, but not without an apprehensive look on her face. "What happened to "battles are ugly affairs"?" she asked.

Father Christmas chuckled. "And though you never seem to have a problem making yourself heard, blow on this," he said, handing her a white horn with the shape of a lion's mouth. "And wherever you are, help will come."

He went back to his sack, and this time, pulled out a silver shield emblazoned with a blood-red lion, and a sword inside its belt and scabbard.

"The time to use these," he said, handing them to Peter, who took them with shining eyes. "May be near at hand."

Peter grasped the hilt of his sword, and slowly pulled it out with the most wonderful _swoosh_ anyone had ever heard. Just by hearing it come out of the hilt helped Aella to know it was a good blade. Peter held it out at arm's length, examining the red hilt with the golden lion head, the runes inscribed on the blood channel, the gleam of the blade in the sun.

"Thank you, sir," he said, his voice cracking. He put the sword back in its scabbard with proud air.

Father Christmas now turned to Aella, who quivered with excitement. What could Father Christmas possibly have for her?

"I have more weapons than anyone could possibly own, Father," she said. "What can you give me to use in battle?"

Father Christmas reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small ring. It was a gold band, set with a single blood-red ruby. He gently put it on her third finger of her left hand.

"This is a magic ring," he said. "It has the power to grant your heart's greatest desire, with one turn around your finger, and your utmost concentration on your wish. Keep in mind, it has the power to grant only _one_ wish, and it cannot raise the dead. You must think very carefully of what your wish shall be. Do I make myself clear, Warrior of Narnia?"

Aella raised her head. "What did you call me?" she gasped.

Father Christmas smiled. "It is what you are to be called in stories, my dear. Stories will be told of this battle, and whether you win or lose, you will be known as the Warrior of Narnia. It is also what your father used to call you, is it not?"

Aella nodded sadly. She reached over to Father Christmas and gave him a grateful hug. He smiled, hugged her back warmly, and pulled away after a few minutes.

"These are tools, not toys," he said, turning to the others. "Bear them well, and wisely. Now, I must be off," and he put his sack back into his sleigh. "The winter is almost over, and things do pile up when you've been gone a hundred years! Long live Aslan, and Merry Christmas!"

He slapped the reins of his sleigh, and his reindeer took off with a jingling of bells.

"Told you he was real," said Lucy gloatingly, looking at Susan, who rolled her eyes.

Aella grazed at her new ring, a small tear coursing down her face. "My first Christmas," she whispered. "He's much kinder than Griff or Marbrush ever told me he'd be."

Peter, however, looked very alarmed. "He said the winter was almost over! You know what that means," he glanced pointedly at everyone. "No more ice!"

They finally reached the Frozen Waterfall at the Great River they had to cross to get to the Stone Table. Peter was right; the waterfall was still frozen solid, but the ice covering the river was quickly breaking off.

"We need to cross, now!" Peter demanded.

"Don't Beavers make dams?" Lucy asked.

"I'm not that fast, dear!" Mr. Beaver replied.

They started to climb down, but Susan stopped them.

"Wait!" she cried, grabbing Peter's arm. "Maybe we should think about this for a minute!"

"There's no time to think! We have to get across now!" Peter shouted angrily.

Susan stepped back, hurt. "I was just trying to be realistic," she said.

"No, you're trying to be smart! As usual!" Peter retorted.

"Shut up!" Aella shouted. "Be grateful you have siblings to fight with! I've got none! So just shut up, and let's go!"

Peter sighed. "Aella, can you fly?" he asked exasperatedly, ignoring her remark.

Aella paused for a moment, smiled mischievously, then jumped off the cliff edge.

"No!" Peter yelled, but it was alright! Aella did not fall. She merely hovered in midair, smiling and laughing gleefully.

"Yep, I can fly!" she said happily. "Oh, boy, you should've seen the look on your faces! That's what you get for fighting over nothing! Ha!"

"Never mind!" Peter said brusquely, clearly embarrassed. "Can you carry us across?"

Aella did not answer right away, but flew over to Peter, grasped him by the waist, and pulled. She couldn't lift him!

"No, I can't," she said. She tried Lucy, but couldn't lift her either. "I'm still too weak!"

"Never mind," Peter said, more kindly this time. "We will just have to walk across."

They all climbed down the cliff as carefully as they could. Peter started to walk on the ice, but Mr. Beaver stopped him.

"Maybe I should go first," he said, apprehensively.

Peter glanced at the quickly disintegrating ice. "Maybe you should," he said.

Mr. Beaver stepped carefully onto the ice, which groaned under his weight. He walked lightly, slapping the ice with his tail. Each slap created a tiny web of cracks.

"You've been sneaking second helpings, haven't you?" Mrs. Beaver asked, pointing an accusing finger at her husband.

"You never know which meal's going to be your last," Mr. Beaver chuckled worriedly. "Especially with your cooking."

Aella rolled her eyes at the bickering couple, and hovered over the ice, her toes barely brushing it. The rest of the children stepped on after her, the ice creaking under them.

"The ice will break!" Aella shrieked. "Lie down!"

Everyone scurried to obey. Peter pulled his sisters down, and they slid across on their stomachs. Aella continued to hover, keeping a lookout for the wolves or the Witch.

"Go back!" she suddenly yelled, putting her staff away and pulling out her sword. "They're here, go back!"

Maugrim jumped out from behind a large rock, his pack following, some on top of the solid waterfall, others stayed on the opposite bank. They were completely surrounded!

Peter stood, drawing his own sword. Mr. Beaver tried to get back to his wife, but one of the wolves snatched his by the neck with his teeth.

Maugrim bared his teeth into an evil smile. "Hello, Aella," he said, chuckling evilly. "Last time we met, you had to be rescued. I can see the circumstances haven't changed." He nodded at Peter, whose hands and sword were quivering. "Although, I have to say, you could do a lot better. The boy barely looks like he can support that piece of scrap metal."

"Hold your tongue, Maugrim, while you still can!" Aella shrieked hysterically. "You will die by my hand! My vow will be fulfilled today!"

Maugrim chuckled again. "Put that down," he laughed. "Put them away, both of you. Leave now while you can, and your brother leaves with you."

Susan started, and grasped Peter's arm. "Aella, Peter, stop, maybe we should listen to him!"

Peter hesitated, but Aella ignored Susan. She brought her sword up and slashed it at Maugrim, but he dodged nimbly.

"You're too weak, girl!" he laughed, knowing he would strike a nerve. "You can't even look at me without becoming sick. I've been watching you for five years. You get nightmares about that night. I hear you scream my name."

"Shut up!" Aella slashed her sword again, but missed. "You will die today! You shall haunt me no more!"

Maugrim turned to Peter again. "Oh, come on, boy. This isn't your war. All my Queen wants is for you to take your family and go."

"Don't you dare talk to him!" Aella shrieked.

"Peter, just because some man in a red coat gives you a sword, it doesn't make you a hero! Just drop it!" Susan bawled more persistently than ever.

"No, Peter!" Mr. Beaver yelled, trying to struggle against the biting wolf. "Narnia needs you! Gut him while you still have the chance!"

"What's it gonna be, Son of Adam," Maugrim growled, dodging Aella again. "I won't wait forever, and neither will the River."

Aella stared at the waterfall, her mind ringing with Maugrim's words. Indeed, the waterfall was starting to crack, and small bursts of water began to spray.

Aella's eyes widened. She turned to Peter, nodded, and winked. Peter stared at her, confused. What was she doing?

Aella turned to Maugrim, and put away her sword. "Okay, Maugrim. You win." She knelt to the ground, making sure to keep her left knee up. Maugrim snorted, then lifted his head and let out a victorious howl. He ran towards Aella, snarling and spitting.

Aella, however, reached into her boot quicker than a flash, and pulled out her extra dagger. She jammed it into Maugrim's leg, who stopped, howling in pain. Blood gushed from the wound, staining Aella's hand and dripping down her arm. Drops of crimson dotted the breaking ice.

Aella did not stop to see if Maugrim was dying. She sprang up, leaving the dagger behind, and faced the cracking waterfall. She held out her hands, and great spurts of fire came out of them, quickly melting the waterfall. The drops of water turned into spurts, turned into fountains.

"Peter, your sword! Use your sword!" she yelled, as the ice began to fall.

Suddenly, Peter understood. "Hold onto me!" he cried. He brought his sword up high in the air, and brought it down as hard as he could into the ice. Susan and Lucy grasped his coat has hard as they could, but Aella stayed put, still shooting fire from her hands.

"Aella! Aella, come on!" Peter yelled.

"Don't worry about me!" she yelled back. "I'll be fine!"

Suddenly, the icy wall collapsed, and water rushed out from behind it, like water escaping from a dam. The children, the Beavers, and the wolves were all swept up in a large wave, and were brought down into the freezing cold water.

At first, no one submerged. For a long while, all were lost in the water. Then, like a great beacon, Peter's hand, still grasping the sword, came out of the water!

The patch of ice that supported Peter, Susan, and Lucy popped out of the water, revealing three spluttering and sopping wet children. Mr. and Mrs. Beaver too popped their heads out of the water, and grabbed the patch of ice. Aella burst her head into the surface, and, with a gleeful smile, vaulted over them like a dolphin.

Aella and the Beavers grasped the patch of ice, and pushed it towards the bank. Susan hurriedly climbed on, followed by Peter, Aella, and the Beavers. Peter pulled his sword out of the ice, and put it back into its hilt with a tired air.

Susan looked around, a worried expression on her face. "Where's Lucy?" she gasped.

Peter glanced down at his hand in horror. He was clasping Lucy's coat, but there was no Lucy! He'd lost her in the water!

"What have you done?" Susan shrieked. She stared at the empty water frantically. "Lucy! LUCY!"

"Has anyone seen my coat?"

Lucy was striding up to them, shivering and sopping wet.

Mr. Beaver laughed. "Don't you worry, love," he said. "Your brother's got you well looked after."

Peter smiled, and put Lucy's coat around her shoulders, with a look on his face like he was going to cry. Aella rushed over, and swept her hands over Lucy, her fire warming and drying her.

"You see?" Peter whispered in Aella's ear. "You did it. You're not weak."

Aella smiled. "You weren't so bad yourself, Your Majesty."

"Children," Mrs. Beaver called, excitement quivering in her voice. "I don't think you'll be needing those coats much longer."

The children looked up immediately, and gasped. Ahead of them was a small cherry tree, but it wasn't totally covered in snow like the other trees. Little pink blossoms were bursting out from under the snow. While the sight made the Beavers and the Pevensies very happy, it only confused Aella more.

"What is this?" she asked. "I don't understand."

"They're blossoms," Peter explained, putting his arm around her. "Little baby flowers. It means spring is right in front of us!"

Aella strode over to the tree, and reached out her hand. She touched the tiny blossoms, which were soft and cool to the touch. "I've never seen them before," she said, stroking them. "What color is this?"

"It's pink!" Lucy exclaimed, running over. "You've never seen pink before?"

Aella shook her head sheepishly.

"Then you don't know what you've been missing!"


	6. Chapter 5

Knowing spring was on their doorstep, and that the White Witch's sleigh wouldn't be able to go on much longer, put everyone's mind at ease. Mr. Beaver stopped telling them to hurry, and they slowed their walking significantly, stopping to admire the new and fresh greenery. Within half an hour, all the snow was gone, and random flowers bloomed before their feet. Moss, leaves, and flowery vines sprouted all over the trees. Within ten minutes, all fur coats, Aella's green cloak, and extra beaver fur was off.

Aella's happiness increased with every step, being this was her first spring. She inquired after every plant, and almost every color. Peter, Susan, and Lucy answered all her questions patiently, astounded at her childlike curiosity. Lucy was quite appalled that Aella had never seen yellow or pink before. Susan was amazed that Aella didn't know the names of the simplest flowers, such as crocuses and daisies. Peter, however, was filled with happiness and pride, like fathers watching their first child go off to college. His eyes burned as he watched Aella's face shine with happiness and curiosity.

Peter began to think about how he felt about Aella. He'd never been in love before, so he didn't know exactly what it felt like. All he knew was that every time he heard her laugh or heard her talk; his heart squirmed in his chest. He knew he had to protect her as much as he had to protect his sisters and brother. He knew she was the most beautiful girl he had ever met; her long, braided brown hair shining in the sun, her penetrating, green eyes, her delicate but firm hands, and her radiant smile, more beautiful than any in both Earth or Narnia. But was she the right girl for him? She definitely had an admirable spirit, and she was very brave and clever. But was she optimistic enough? Like Mr. Beaver had said, she had burdens on her shoulders. Would he be able to help her bear them? Could he help her eliminate them? Or possibly eliminate them himself? He remembered the thrill he had felt when he'd carried her during her weak spell. Would he be able to endure that for an eternity, or would they bicker like the Beavers?

"Peter?"

Susan touched her brother's shoulder, her face full of concern. "Are you all right?"

Peter gazed at Aella again, who was giving Lucy a ride on her back.

He shrugged. "I'm fine. Just thinking."

"About Aella?" Susan smiled. "Come on, Peter, it's no secret among us that you fancy her. Even Lucy knows it."

Peter raised his eyebrow. "Am I that obvious?"

"Peter, you were flirting with her on the Lake."

"I was not! I was being friendly! We were just talking!"

"You were staring at her the whole time!"

"I was not!"

"Yes, you were! Anyway, that's not the point," she stopped him hurriedly. The point is, do you fancy her or not? Or do you just fancy her pretty face?"

Peter hesitated. "I don't know," he said, staring at Aella again. "I don't even know if I fancy her. I could just possibly enjoy her company. But will I be content with just that? Or will I want more? All I know for sure is that she's the most wonderful girl I've ever met, and that I want to help her. But the problem is, I don't know if I can."

"It doesn't matter if you _can_," Susan said gently. "It matters if you try. Trying is all you can do. If you succeed, then it's all the better for you both. If you fail, then it's up to her to decide what to do next. If she accepts you, then it's good for both of you. If she refuses you, then it's her loss."

Peter looked at his sister and laughed. "I can't believe this! We run away from the Macready woman, and look at what we end up in! We might become royalty, we nearly drowned, Ed's imprisoned by a witch, we meet Father Christmas," he sighed. "And I'm falling in love."

Susan giggled. "So it's true, then? You admit it! You're in love with Aella!"

"Peter!" Aella called from up ahead of them. "Can you tell me what this flower is? Lucy's a bit preoccupied at the moment."

She gestured to Lucy, who was happily chasing a swallowtail butterfly.

Peter ran up to Aella and looked at the flower she was pointing to. "Ah," he said, smiling. "That is a red rose. It is a very beautiful, delicate flower, but it can be dangerous, see the thorns? But- oh, can I borrow your dagger for a moment?"

Aella consented, pulling a dagger from her belt. Peter took it, and cut the rose off its vine. He also carefully cut off the thorns.

"You see," he explained as he cut. "If you want to touch it, smell it, or give it to someone you love, you have to cut off the thorns, because they're very painful to the touch. However, even if you cut off the thorns, you can see it is still very beautiful."

And, blushing redder than the rose itself, he gave it and the dagger to Aella, who took them, equally as red.

"Come along children!" Mrs. Beaver called. "We'll be there soon! Oh, hurry, hurry!"

At first, neither Peter nor Aella moved, too engrossed in the moment to do anything. Then, in a state of both excitement and embarrassment, Aella flew off into the air, but not so far as that she was out of sight of the others. She dreamily flipped onto her back, put her hand behind her head, and brought the rose to her nose, inhaling its sweet fragrance.

Peter stared after her. He hadn't meant to sound or be romantic; he'd done it accidentally. Although… she did seem to have liked it.

"Well," Susan remarked, popping up behind Peter. "That was incredibly smooth. You thought of it yourself?"

"Of course I did!" Peter retorted. "Why wouldn't I? I'm perfectly capable of being romantic!"

Susan raised her eyebrow skeptically.

"What? I am!"

Nearly an hour later, they finally reached Aslan's camp. Aella continued to race ahead, but the Pevensies lagged behind, curious and amazed. This was as new to them as spring was to Aella, although they held back their curiosity and politely walked onward.

Like Aella had said, every creature imaginable was there. There were Dryads and Naiads, fauns and satyrs, leopards, cheetahs, gryphons, centaurs, bears, badgers, stags, dogs, warthogs, horses, red dwarves, tree spirits, foxes, and unicorns. And they all stared as the Pevensies walked by.

"Why are they all staring at us?" Susan asked, although she seemed rather pleased.

"Maybe they think you look funny," Lucy said, grinning widely.

Aella laughed. "No, no, you look fine. They stare because they never thought they'd live to see a human, much less their new king and queens."

"But… what about you?" Lucy asked. "You're human, aren't you? Or at least part human."

"Oh, they all know I'm not human, I can fly!" Aella said, floating in the air with her arms poised like a ballerina.

Peter smiled, but inwardly he was cursing. He'd forgotten about the fact that she wasn't human. Would that matter? Would they be able to be together? He decided to push the feeling away for the moment, and concentrate at the situation at hand, which was getting Edmund back.

Mrs. Beaver, on the other hand, was brushing her fur with her paws, extremely flustered and unused to the attention.

"Oi, stop your fussing," Mr. Beaver said kindly, taking his wife's paw in his. "You look lovely."

Mrs. Beaver blushed.

Aella's excitement grew as they passed through the camp. She flitted around like a fairy, greeting everyone she recognized. "Marbrush! How are you?" "Griff! Thank Aslan you're all right!" "Maia! Look at you! You look fantastic!" "Hello, Deyna!"

Finally, they reached a large red tent embroidered with gold. This tent was at the far end of the camp, and it was the most important-looking. Aella's face lit up; Oreius was standing guard at the tent!

"Oreius!" she cried, running over to him. Oreius swept her into his arms, giving her a big bear hug.

"I told you I'd be all right, Captain!" Aella laughed, hanging on to Oreius tightly.

"Ah ah! It's General Oreius now!" Oreius said, setting her down. "I see you have discovered the joy of flowers," he said, brushing the rose that was tucked in Aella's lapel.

Aella nodded. "Oh, Oreius, these are my friends: Peter, Son of Adam, and Susan and Lucy, Daughters of Eve. And, of course, you know the Beavers."

Oreius solemnly surveyed the children with a quailing eye, causing Susan and Lucy to back up fearfully. Peter, however, stepped forward, drew out his sword, and held it out in front of him in salute.

"We have come to see Aslan," he said in a slightly quavering but powerful voice.

Oreius bowed his head, and gestured toward the tent wordlessly toward the tent, but no one came out.

Suddenly, every creature behind them got down on their knees in unison, like a large wave. The centaurs, however, did not. Instead, they bowed their heads and offered their right arms as a sign of respect. Aella pulled out her sword, and fell to her knees, placing her sword point down into the ground, knowing who was coming. Peter, Susan, and Lucy, however, did nothing. They simply stood there, slightly confused.

Suddenly, out of the tent came a great golden paw, followed by the great golden Lion that was Aslan. However, Aslan was no ordinary lion. Every hair, every sinewy muscle, every whisker was full of power and grace. His full, beautiful mane blew in the wind, promoting a powerful air. His claws were sharp and formidable, promoting a fearful air. However, his powerful mouth seemed to be curved in a smile, which made his less fearsome. His green eyes bore an expression that was hardly describable. They seemed to be happy, sad, angry, disappointed, excited, and melancholy at the same time. He gazed at Peter, Susan, and Lucy with those eyes, causing them to drop on their knees. Their homage was full of the most total respect anyone could ever give or ask for.

"Welcome Peter, Son of Adam," Aslan said, in a deep, rich voice. "Welcome Susan and Lucy, Daughters of Eve. And welcome to you, Beavers, and Aella, adopted daughter of Oreius. You have my thanks."

He stared formidably at the three siblings. "But where is the fourth?" he asked.

At first, no one answered. The siblings seemed too ashamed to answer.

"That's why we're here, sir," Peter finally spoke up, putting away his sword. "We need your help."

"We had a little trouble along the way," Susan spoke up.

"Our brother has been captured by the White Witch," Peter continued.

"Captured? How could this happen?" Aslan asked, although he already seemed to know, judging by his voice.

"He… he betrayed them, Your Majesty," Mr. Beaver finally spoke up.

A collective gasp resounded around the crowd.

"Then he has betrayed us all!" said Oreius, voicing what everyone was thinking.

Aslan growled. "Peace, Oreius!" His voice bore not anger, but severe disappointment that made even Aella feel guilty. "I'm sure there's an explanation."

Peter bowed his head, his face torn with guilt and unhappiness. "It was my fault, really," he said quietly. "I was too hard on him."

"Peter, no," Aella cried. She tried to walk over to him, but Peter held up his hand.

Susan put a comforting hand on her brother's shoulder. "We all were," she said, sadly.

"Sir, he's our brother," Lucy said quietly.

"I know, dear one. And that makes the betrayal all the worse."

"Then you will do nothing?" Aella cried pleadingly.

"Everything will be done for Edmund," Aslan said quellingly. "But this may be harder than you think."

Peter, Susan, and Lucy were all given a change of clothes to blend in a bit better, although it was still proving to be a bit difficult. However, they were able to ignore the staring, and help everyone for the upcoming battle. Susan looked radiant in her new green dress, and Lucy was very pretty in her blue dress. Peter looked more handsome than ever in brown leggings, leather boots, leather jerkin, and blue cotton shirt.

Aella was as helpful as ever. She helped some train with weaponry, she cooked, she mended clothes and armory, and she sharpened swords, axes, and spears. She did everything she possibly could, trying to please not only herself, but Oreius as well. He'd always told her to be as helpful as possible whenever possible.

While she was cooking a meal for Marbrush and Griff while they sharpened their weapons, she told them of her adventure, from Tumnus' home to the camp. She told them of the wolves, Father Christmas, and their River adventure. She did omit her sickness spell, but nothing else.

"He was more remarkable than I ever thought he'd be," she said, describing Father Christmas. "He was just as fantastic as you told me, Marbrush!"

Marbrush looked confused. "The Son of Adam? What are you talking about? I never told you about him!"

Aella raised her eyebrow. "Mar, I'm talking about Father Christmas. Who did you think I was talking about?"

Marbrush bit his lip. "Er… nothing! Absolutely nothing! Nope, nuh uh, mm-mm." He ducked his head in embarrassment.

Aella sighed. "Marbrush, you never were a good liar," she said.

"He's talking about his Majesty, the King," Griff said. "It's… sort of spreading around the camp that… you… er… fancy each other." He ducked his head behind is wing, pretending to clean his feathers, but was truly hiding from Aella's stormy reaction.

"What?" She stood, nearly spilling the stew. "I… fancy Peter? Where in the name of Aslan did you get that idea?"

"Things spread!" Marbrush said in a matter-of-fact tone. "He says this, she says that!"

"But I never gave any hint that I fancy Peter!" Aella cried, plunking herself back down.

"Ah ha!" Marbrush pointed his finger at her. "So you do fancy him!"

"What? When did I say that?"

"Just now!"

"I did not!"

"Yes, you did!"

"No, I didn't!"

"Hey!" Griff shouted, finally quieting Marbrush and Aella. "This is a pointless argument. It does not matter whom Aella fancies, and we're not going to tear our friendship apart because of a silly argument. Okay?"

Aella hung her head sheepishly. "I'm sorry, Griff," she said, giving him a hug. Griff purred happily.

"Forgive me?" Marbrush asked, holding out his hand to Aella. She took it, but not without giving it a playful but painful squeeze.

"If you must know," she said, sitting herself back down. "I have no idea if I fancy Peter or not. As far as I know, we are only friends. We've been through a lot together, we've helped each other through some tight spots. He's never indicated that he fancies me, I've never said I fancy him."

Griff raised his furry eyebrow. "Keep in mind, my friend, actions sometimes do speak louder than words."

"Actions can be deceiving," she returned, stirring the stew.

Suddenly, a loud, clear horn blasted through the camp.

Aella gasped. "Susan!" she cried, picking up her belt with her sword and daggers, but leaving her staff, bow and arrows behind. Griff and Marbrush tore after her in hot pursuit.

Forgetting entirely about flying, she raced as fast as she could to the little stream where she knew Susan and Lucy were playing. She saw Oreius and a small band of Fauns, satyrs, and some cheetahs race to the stream as well.

Susan and Lucy were high up in a tree, shrieking as two wolves snarled at the roots, jumping and trying to bite Susan's dangling ankles. Susan didn't have her bow and arrows with her, but Lucy was slashing her dagger as best as she could. Peter was at the roots of the tree with his sword out, brandishing it fearsomely at the wolves.

Aslan raced over, and pinned one of the wolves down with his paw. "Stay back!" he roared at Oreius and his band. "This is Peter's battle."

At first, Aella obeyed. Then, she realized exactly whom Peter was up against.

"Maugrim!" she cried, rushing forward. "Let me go! He's mine!" she struggled as Marbrush held her back.

Maugrim, hearing her cries, turned. He sneered and turned back to Peter, whose face was still slightly fearful, but less so this time. Maugrim laughed.

"You may think you're a king," laughed Maugrim. "But you're going to die, LIKE A DOG!" He snarled and lunged at Peter, who raised his sword. All three girls screamed at the same time.

"No!"

"Peter!"

"NOOO!"

Susan and Lucy scrambled down from the tree, and raced over to Peter. Aella, completely in shock, did not move, and she didn't notice as Marbrush cautiously let go of her. Grunting, they pushed the dead wolf off Peter, who gasped and stared around him in shock. He yanked his sisters into a hug, nearly crying of shock and relief.

_It's over_, Aella thought, completely immobile, staring at Peter's back. _He's dead. My enemy is dead. But I am not satisfied._

Aslan lifted his paw off his prisoner, who sprang away, yelping. "After him!" Aslan called to Oreius. "He'll lead you to Edmund."

Aslan solemnly strode over to Peter, who was wiping his face with his hand. "Peter," he said. "Clean your sword."

Peter pulled his sword out of Maugrim's body, and wiped it clean on the grass. When he finished, Aslan gestured his head, indicating that he should kneel. Peter obeyed, offering his sword in front of him.

Aslan placed his heavy velvet paws on Peter's shoulders. "Rise," he said grandly. "Sir Peter Wolfsbane, Knight of Narnia."

Peter stared at Aslan proudly, his shoulders back and chest forward. It is very hard to describe exactly what that moment looked like. The look on Peter's face, the sun shining in his golden hair; it was a sight that would fill even the most evil creature with a feeling of tear-jerking pride and joy.

Except for one. Aella did not congratulate Peter like Susan and Lucy did. She merely stood rooted to the ground, her face growing red with anger. She stood there, full of anger, disappointment, and jealousy so badly, it scared even her when she thought back to that moment later. It wasn't until Peter ran up to her with his arms open did she explode.

"You evil, lying, stupid son of a hag!" she screamed, slapping him across the face. "You knew! You knew I was the one to kill him, and you just HAD to do it yourself! You had to get the glory; you had to be the hero, didn't you? You fool, Peter! Any idiot can carry a sword! It's how you use it that makes you a hero! And you used yours to steal MY enemy, MY revenge, so you could get all the glory for yourself!"

She beat Peter as she screamed, slapping him and punching him with every word. He did nothing to stop her, but instead held himself steady, letting her vent her anger.

"I thought you would understand," he cried, finally grabbing her shoulders and shaking her. "I did it to save my sisters! I did it for you! All I've wanted to do ever since I met you is help you! I was trying to help you! I did it for you!"

"Shut up!" Aella wrenched herself out of his grasp. "I hate you, you bastard! You're a lousy king, you evil Son of Adam! YOU ARE A LOUSY KING! I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN!"

Now positively furious, she spit right on Peter's face. She turned around and flew off into the air towards the nearest, highest hill. Peter started to follow her, but Susan held him back.

"No! Let her go. Let her be. She needs time to heal now."

Peter stared after Aella, sinking to his knees. "I don't understand," he said quietly. "What did I do wrong?"


	7. Chapter 6

Aella swooped and soared and dipped uncontrollably, unable to concentrate. She zigzagged and fell repeatedly, so, after nearly crashing into a tree, she finally landed on the hill she was aiming for. She screamed and stamped and kicked and howled, the ferocious anger boiling inside her. She tore the rose of her lapel, threw it on the ground, and hurled fireball after fireball at it, until she had no energy left. She crumpled on the ground and howled in misery. She screamed and beat the ground with her fists, unable to compose herself, though she refused to cry. She screamed, and yet she was determined not to cry. If there was one thing she learned from her mother, was that tears never solved anything. When she was finally out of energy, she simply lay there, gasping for air. Soon she began to weary, and she slowly drifted off to sleep…

_Cold, black fear gripped the air as she raced through the woods. Wolves were chasing her, the pungent smell of heat, hair, and dirt mixed together stung her nostrils and filled her burning lungs. The wolves continued to advance, getting closer and closer every second. She could not take it anymore. She slowed, preparing to give herself up to the monsters. _

_Suddenly, large muscular arms grabbed her out of nowhere, and she was swung onto the back of Oreius. She turned her head as Oreius reared, preparing to stamp on the wolves. She looked straight into the large, cruel eyes of Maugrim, eyes that would haunt her for an eternity…_

_Oreius' arm swung, and knocked Maugrim onto the ground, away from her. He sprawled, but quickly sprang back up. Snarling, he circled Oreius and the screaming Aella. He pounced, mouth open wide, preparing to rip her in half._

_A large figure burst from the trees, brandishing a large, glinting sword. The figure was clad entirely in gold armor, and the sword looked very familiar to Aella. The figure sprang onto Maugrim and killed him in one swift stroke. Aella screamed again, but more out of surprise than of fear. She clutched Oreius, who patted her hand, shushing her. _

_The figure walked up to Aella, and knelt before her. He tore off his golden gloves, and finally his helmet, but his face was still obscured in darkness. He silently held out his hand, and golden dust swirled in his palm, formulating a single, deep red rose. _

_"Who are you?" Aella's voice echoed in the wood. "Why are you here?"_

_Still holding out the rose, the figure stood, placing him in full glare of the moonlight. It was Peter. _

Aella awoke with a start, gasping and shaking. She lay there in the shadow of the setting sun, contemplating the dream she had just had. What did it mean?

"It means," a deep voice spoke behind her. "Someone who loves you did you a favor. He saved you from a much greater foe than Maugrim himself; consummation of hatred and vengeance."

Aella stared at the awesome figure of Aslan, wiping her face with her hands. "What do you mean? I was being consumed by nothing."

"Peter's reason for killing Maugrim was a much greater one than yours, Aella. You wanted to kill for hatred, to get back at him for hurting you. But Peter did not mean to kill him. Rather, he was trying to protect you and his sisters, and he happened to kill Maugrim along the way. It was love, Aella. He did it for love. We would have lost you today if you had gone up against Maugrim. You would have stooped lower than the hatred of your mother."

Aslan lay down next to Aella, purring slightly. Aella leaned forward and pressed her face into Aslan's mane.

"He helped her kill my father," she said in a muffled voice.

"I know," said Aslan, comfortingly. "But for your sake, and for your father's, you have to let go, Aella. There are too many in this world that care about you, and you do not even know it. You were so close to being consumed by hatred, we would have lost you today, and you would have caused great suffering to many. Peter Pevensie helped you more than you know. All he has wished to do ever since he met you is love you and care for you. But he cannot do that unless you let go of your remorse and hatred. Do you think you can do that?"

Aella hesitated. "I don't know," she said quietly. "Maugrim wasn't the only one I wanted to kill. There is one more. The one who killed my father."

"Your mother?"

Aella nodded.

"Neither Peter nor you can kill her. You may try, but you will not succeed. She is much too powerful. She will not die by your hand. However, it would help if you weakened her when she fights in the battle. Can you do that?"

Aella paused again. "I don't know," she said. "I never realized before just how much I needed her to die. I was angry. I still am. However, I can't let hatred and anger consume me like it consumed her. You're right. I will battle against her as hard as I can, but if I cannot kill her, then I cannot kill her. Besides, it is a bit sinful to kill my mother, isn't it?"

"It is," Aslan said, standing and shaking out his mane. "And now, I believe you owe someone an apology."

He stepped aside, bowing his head towards a figure quickly climbing up the hill. Peter leapt up to Aslan, looking shamefacedly at Aella, who leapt up and quickly brushed the leaves and grass off her green tunic and leggings.

For a minute, an awkward silence gripped the air. Peter and Aella weren't sure exactly what to say, or rather they knew, but they weren't sure how to say it.

"Would you like to be alone?" Aslan asked. Aella nodded, and Aslan turned gracefully. "Remember," he said. "Don't let it consume you."

Still no one moved, even after Aslan had left. Aella tried to talk, but she couldn't get anything out. Finally, Peter decided to take over.

"I'm sorry," he said, stepping forward.

"No, I'm sorry," Aella returned, stepping toward him.

"I should've let you kill Maugrim."

"I shouldn't have yelled at you."

"I was only trying to save my sisters."

"I was out of control, you were doing the right thing."

Both laughed, although, again, at what, neither knew. Aella, seized with a daring boldness, then threw herself in into his arms. He held her tightly, burying his face into her neck.

"Peter, I'm so sorry. I'd become so involved in killing him, I didn't see… I was blind to so many things. Anyway, it's over now. He's dead. He'll haunt me no more."

She held him tighter. "I understand now you were trying to help me, to lighten my burden. So, thank you, I guess."

Peter smiled quietly, but inside he was screaming and exploding with happiness. "You're welcome."

He let go slightly, and put his hand on her soft cheek. Impulsively, he leaned in to kiss her. At first, she let him, but after a few seconds, she broke away, blushing and confused.

"I don't understand," she said, covering her mouth with her hand. "What are you doing? What was that?"

Peter stared at her, confused. "Y…you don't know? That was a kiss! That was an act of love!"

Aella backed away, dazed. "That was a… I never knew..."

Peter encircled his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. "My God, Aella. What could you have possibly have gone through that would make you unable to recognize a kiss?"

Aella bit her lip nervously. "Do you really want to know?" she asked, sinking to the ground and taking him with her.

He sat cross-legged next to her, leaning his head on her arm. "I do," he said. "I want to know. That is, if you feel up to telling me."

She smiled, and rested her head on his. "Brace yourself then. It's an interesting story…

"When I was growing up, I was a princess. I lived in a large palace, with servants and the like. But to tell you the truth, it was really lonely. The only person who ever paid any real attention to me was my father. Every spare moment he had was spent playing with me. My mother never acknowledged my existence. Whenever I'd come looking for her, she'd scream at me and order ogres to escort me into my room and force me to stay there for two days. In fact, when I was born, she didn't hold me, or feed me, or name me. She gave all that to my father."

"Your father named you? Where did he get a name like Aella?"

Aella smiled. "When I was a day old, he took me around the castle, thinking of what to name me. He brought me to every room, and I cried in almost all of them, except for one. When we entered the armory, I cooed and laughed, and reached my little hands for one of the swords. So, he named me Aella, which means "warrior." He trained me to be a good fighter, and he called me his little warrior." She chuckled softly. "His little warrior of Narnia."

"So that's what Father Christmas was talking about!" Peter exclaimed.

Aella nodded, taking off her ring and holding it in the palm of her hand. "I used to wear this ring when I was little. Father said it was my grandmother's, but I never knew which one, he wouldn't tell me. I guess since it's magic, it must be my mother's mother.

"Five years ago, when I was ten, I was running around the palace, looking for my father. I heard screaming; a man's scream, and I ran to investigate. I raced to the dungeons, where the screams were coming from. My father was lying on the floor, crumpled and bleeding, and was trying to ward off Maugrim's attacks. Maugrim was ripping my father to pieces with his teeth and claws, and my mother was just standing off to the side, watching and laughing gleefully.

"Mommy!" I called to her. "Mommy, stop him! Help Daddy, help Daddy!"

"At first, my mother did nothing. Then, she smiled, raised her wand, and turned him into stone."

"Turned him into stone?" Peter gasped. "But… that means… no, she can't be!"

Aella nodded, and took a very deep breath, as if waiting for a stormy reaction. "The White Witch is my mother."

Peter's face filled with alarm. However, instead of recoiling in shock like Aella expected him to, he reached out his arms, and pulled her into a loving hug.

"You poor girl, that's horrible! I can't believe she did that to you! How could you have watched it?"

Aella squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to cry. "That's not all she did," she whispered. "She… turned him into stone, and then, she took a hammer and smashed him to pieces! She killed him right in front of me!"

She shook her head, controlled and calm again. "I knew that I had to run away," she said. "I had no idea why she killed him, and I still don't. I knew I'd be next if I didn't leave soon. So, I turned and ran. I ran into the woods, and I did not stop for a second. My mother sent Maugrim and the rest of the Secret Police after me, and I just barely escaped."

"Why didn't you fly?"

"I didn't know about my powers until I was thirteen. For powers like these, especially when the bearer is only half magic, they take a long time to develop."

"And Oreius? How did you meet him?"

"I was running from Maugrim and the wolves when he found me. He stopped them and beat them up, and they ran away. He took me into his cave, and has raised me for the past five years. He's… he's been like a second father to me. Thank Aslan for him. I dunno where I'd be today if not for him."

"So, that's why you wanted to kill Maugrim?" Peter asked quietly. "That's why you hate the White Witch?"

Aella nodded. "I wanted to kill Maugrim because he helped the White Witch kill my father. He's haunted my dreams for five years. I thought if I killed him, then my dreams would be over. I didn't realize just how much it consumed me until now. 'Till I met you." She laughed weakly. "Stupid thought, innit?"

Peter shook his head, brushing his hand through her soft, braided brown hair. "No, it makes sense to me," he said simply. "I'd do that if someone killed my mother or father. Or even my brother and sisters. I know what you were thinking."

He leaned in again, and this time, Aella didn't pull away. Their lips pressed together, and they were both taken away on a huge, romantic, roller-coaster ride of emotions. Her face burned red, his stomach dropped, and she felt a certain happiness that she had never felt before in her life. All the emotions she had kept bottled and buried deep inside her for years exploded like a million fireworks. When Peter pulled away after about thirty seconds, Aella was positively burning with happiness.

"You okay?" he whispered, touching her face.

Aella nodded. "It's just… I've never felt this happy before."

Peter smiled. "I know. I know exactly what you mean."

On the next day, Edmund was finally reunited with his brother and sisters. He returned to them braver, smarter, and no longer surly-looking. He came up to them, and said a heartfelt apology for his betrayal, and he was quickly forgiven. Peter hardly said a word, his pride getting in the way of saying his true feelings. All he said was "get some sleep," and "try not to wander off," but both with a small smile on his face.

Aella spent the morning helping around the camp, cooking and smithing armor. She received a fair amount of strange stares; not angry and condescending, but stares of wonder and awe and praise.

"Marbrush, why are they all staring at me?" she later asked her friend when they were taking a short walk.

Marbrush shrugged. "I dunno for sure, but there is a rumor going-"

"Ai! Another rumor? Will it never end?" Aella threw up her hands in exasperation. "What is it this time?"

"They're saying you spent the night with Peter, his Royal Highness. They say you… er… romanced."

Aella's eyes opened wide. "What in the name of Aslan… can't someone get a decent amount of privacy around here?"

"Ah ha! So it's true!"

"We weren't together the whole night! …Only for about two hours," she answered sheepishly. "We just talked and… kissed. What's the big deal? It's not as if there's anything else."

Marbrush's eyes widened. "You lucky girl. I'll bet anything most females here would do anything to have the slightest bit of romance with him."

"What are you talking about?"

"Aella, come on. We both know you ain't stupid."

"Well, obviously I am, because I have no idea what you are talking about."

Marbrush rolled his eyes. "One, he's royalty," he said, counting off with his fingers. "Two, he's handsome. Three, he can carry a sword. Come on, darling, you can't get much better than that."

"I did not spend a romantic hour with him because he can carry a sword!" Aella shouted. "I've said it before, any idiot can carry a sword, even the Witch! I spent two hours with him because he's kind, gentle, and understanding. He didn't even get mad at me despite the fact that I got mad at him for killing Maugrim! Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going up to the targets to get some practice!"

She flew off towards the targets, her mind ringing with Marbrush's words. It was true, Peter was a girl magnet, but would any girls here try to take him from her? If so, would he go without a fight? There were a lot of pretty Dryads around here. However, Aella did have a fair advantage; she was one of the few around here who not only had proper human legs, but was proper human all over. The only thing that made her any different from humans was her powers.

She arrived at the target area, only to find Susan and Lucy already there. Susan had shot an arrow and had just barely missed the bulls eye. Lucy however, had hurled her dagger, and it landed dead center into the bulls eye.

Aella smiled. "Very good," she said. "Would you like to see a cool trick?"

Both girls nodded.

Aella pulled out her bow and an arrow, aimed, and fired. It shot into the center of another bulls eye, its force nearly cracking it in half. Aella then pulled out one of her daggers, fitted it into her bow, and shot it. It shot through the arrow, split it in two, and the dagger hit the very center of the bulls eye.

Susan and Lucy gasped and clapped admirably.

"But wait!" Aella said mischievously. "There's more."

She pulled out another dagger, threw it, and it landed dead in the center of the handle of the previous dagger. It stuck onto the handle, quivering.

"Wow," Lucy said with wide eyes. "Where'd you learn to do that?"

Aella smiled. "It pays to have a general for a guardian," she said.

They walked up to the targets to retrieve their arrows and daggers. While Lucy ran ahead, Aella lingered with Susan, engaging her in conversation.

"Susan, can I ask you something? Is Peter the kind of person who is distracted by beauty? I mean, would he romance one girl, then leave her if he finds another twice as pretty? I just want to make sure, I don't want to get into a situation I'm going to regret, I'm not trying to judge or insult your brother, I just-"

"Whoa, whoa, hold on a moment," Susan stopped Aella with a wave of her hand. "You're asking me whether or not my brother is loyal?"

Aella nodded, blushing. But Susan was not angry.

"Well, you saw how he kept us all safe as possible on our way here. When Peter had something he loves, either a little or more than life, he protects it with all his heart, and never wavers. Whether it be family, or a pet, or a book, he is, in fact, the most loyal person I have ever known. You may be the first girl to come along in his life, but I tell you, he will be good to you. However, you must not mistake politeness with disloyalty. If a girl asks him to dance, he will dance, but only for the sake of politeness. I assure you, Aella, you have nothing to worry about. He's a wonderful person."

"Yes," Aella said quietly. "Yes, he is."

At that exact moment, Peter and Edmund came galloping into view, Peter aboard a white unicorn, Edmund on a chestnut brown horse. Aella watched fondly as Peter coached his brother on how to use a sword. They clashed swords playfully, their horses rearing slightly. Peter's hair blew in the wind, his face shining in the sun and in happiness, making him more handsome than ever.

Suddenly, Mr. Beaver came running up to them, his whiskery face full of a large amount of alarm.

"Peter! Edmund!"

Edmund's horse immediately reared up in fright, whinnying fearfully.

"Whoa, horsey!" Edmund said fearfully, patting the horse's neck.

The horse sighed. "My name is Philip," he said angrily.

Edmund's eyes widened. "S… sorry," he said sheepishly.

Mr. Beaver gestured frantically towards the camp. "The White Witch had demanded a meeting with Aslan! She's on her way here!"

The White Witch arrived at Aslan's tent, upon a litter carried by four large, brutish Cyclopes, flanked by Minotaurs. The Witch's dwarf, Ginnarbrik, was leading the way, calling out in a squeaky voice, "Jadis, the Queen of Narnia, Empress of the Lone Islands!" That cry earned him a lot of boos and jeers from Aslan's army.

The Cyclopes set the throne down upon the ground, and the Witch regally stepped off, and walked toward Aslan, who was standing in front of his tent. Oreius, Aella, and the Pevensies were off to Aslan's right, staring at the Witch hatefully and fearfully. The Witch's pure white dress was now splotched with gray, and her crown of ice, once thick and tall, was thin and shrunk, and one could easily snap the ice in half.

She gracefully walked over to Aslan, her eyes sweeping the crowd. They stopped on Edmund, his face bearing a determined but scared look, a cut lip, and a green bruise.

The Witch stopped, her eyes and face cold. "You have a traitor in your midst, Aslan," she announced.

"Edmund's offense were not against you," Aslan said, his voice bearing no expression.

"Have you forgotten the laws upon which Narnia was built?" Jadis asked smoothly.

Aslan growled forcefully, and the Witch faltered a bit. "Do not cite the Deep Magic to me, Witch! I was there when it was written!"

The White Witch swallowed, trying to regain her courage. "Then you will remember well that every traitor belongs to me. His blood is my property."

Peter and Aella both drew out their swords at the same time. "Try and take him then!" Peter said, bravely.

"You will not kill Edmund like you killed my father!" Aella yelled, equally as brave.

The White Witch stared at them, a smile creeping up her face. "Do you really think that mere force will deny me my right… little King?" She scoffed. "Aslan knows that unless I have blood, as the law demands, all of Narnia will be overturned, and perish in Fire and Water! That boy," she pointed at Edmund. "Will die, on the Stone Table… as is tradition!" She glared triumphantly at Aslan. "You dare not refuse me, just as you did not refuse me of the girl's father's blood."

"Enough," Aslan cut through the Witch's monologue. "I shall talk to you alone."

"I will only come if the girl comes as well," the Witch said, gesturing to Aella.

Aslan sighed, and looked at Aella's hard face. "Aella?" he asked resignedly.

Aella growled, but she stepped forward. However, Peter stopped her by grabbing her hand.

"No! I won't let you!" he said, his face full of fear.

"I have to. I may be able to help Edmund."

She patted his hand comfortingly, and then took off her belt and quiver, and pulled the extra daggers out of her boots. "Hang on to these for me," she said, handing Oreius her weaponry.

She cautiously followed the White Witch into the tent, which was filled with maps, figurines, a chair, and a soft rug. The White Witch seated herself in the chair without being asked, but both Aella and Aslan remained standing.

"Hello, Jadis," Aella said, coldly. "It has been a long time."

The White Witch smiled icily. "Is that any way to say hello to your mother?" she asked.

"You are no mother of mine, you bitch!" Aella said forcefully.

"Control yourself, Aella!" Aslan commanded sharply. "What is it you want with her, Jadis?"

"I want my daughter back," the Witch said calmly. "I want back what I created and is truly mine."

"I am not your property. You may have created me, but you never raised me like Father and Oreius did. You will not have me."

"You are mine. My blood runs in your veins. You will have to face that fact one day."

"I AM NOT YOURS!" Aella balled her hands into fists, and flames licked around them.

The White Witch stared at Aella's fire, her eyes shining. "So," she whispered. "You have discovered your powers. Good, good! You see? If it weren't for me, then you'd never have those powers. Just like your weak father."

"If he was so weak, then why did you marry him?"

"For power, girl. What did you expect? Your father was the last direct descendent of King Frank and Queen Helen, and I needed some way to gain another level of power. Amazing what the ways of women can do to men."

"You stone! How can you not marry for love?"

"Neither can you, Aella, and you know it. You know perfectly well you can't marry the handsome Son of Adam back there."

"What are you talking about?"

Jadis' eyes opened wide. "You don't know? Aslan, how could you not tell her what she is?"

"Our negotiations have nothing to do with your daughter, Jadis!" Aslan roared. "We have business to conduct!"

"Silence, you fool. Go on; tell my daughter what she is. Tell her that she is immortal. Tell her that no matter how much she wants to, she can't marry that little, puny, mortal king. Not much of a choice, anyway."

"Leave Peter out of this!" Aslan roared.

"Shut up, both of you!" Aella shrieked. "I'm not immortal! I've gotten hurt! Immortal people can't get hurt!"

"That's an old Faun wives' tale, you fool," Jadis laughed. "You are never going to die. Isn't it wonderful? You will live forever, and with fantastic powers such as yours, who knows what we can accomplish?"

"We?" Aella spluttered. "What makes you think there will be a "we"? I will never join a murderer! I'm staying with Aslan, and with Peter!"

"Peter will die one day," the Witch continued. "But you never will. He will leave you, whether for another or in death. One way or another, you will always be alone. You're father abandoned you, as will that boy."

"Father didn't abandon me! You killed him!"

Jadis scoffed. "He was a traitor, you fool. He was passing information from my side to Aslan for ages, thinking I had no idea. But I knew. I was just waiting for the opportune moment to kill him. To make sure you watched him die. I merely followed Narnian law. But I… added a little spice to it, you might say."

"My father died a hero's death! And so will I!"

"You will never die, you pathetic imbecile. You will live, while all those you love fall like autumn leaves around you. The winter may be over for everyone else," Jadis laughed. "But it still exists for you."

"NEVER!" Aella sprang onto the White Witch, bringing her burning hands to her white throat and squeezing as hard as she could.

"Enough!" Aslan's teeth cut into the hem of Aella's tunic, and he pulled her off the White Witch. "Jadis and I must get back to negotiations. If you want the whole truth, you may approach me afterwards, but not sooner. Tell no one. Not yet." Aella glared at Aslan furiously, but she then burst angrily from the tent and, in her blind anger, tripped and fell at Peter's feet.

"What happened?" Peter pulled Aella up and held her tightly. "Are you all right?"

Aella sighed. She pulled away from Peter, and plopped herself back down on the ground in defeat, trying to convince herself that it was all a lie. She couldn't be immortal. If she were immortal, she would have known!

"Aella, what is wrong?" Susan knelt down beside her, grasping Aella's shoulders. "What happened in there?"

Aella shook her head. Peter was the only one who fully knew her parentage and past. Even Oreius did not know that the White Witch was her mother. How could she know whether or not to trust anyone else with her biggest secret?

Susan hesitated, but then put her arms around Aella's shoulders. Peter knelt, and held Aella's hand. Neither pressed the subject upon her.

For hours, they waited in silence for Aslan and the White Witch. Everyone sat upon the ground, bored and pulling at the grass.

"He's coming!" Someone suddenly cried, standing up quickly. The tent was indeed rustling slightly. Everyone stood quickly and completely upright.

The White Witch regally burst from the tent, her manner stiff and sour. She eyed the Pevensies coldly, but did not look at her daughter.

Aslan followed her, looking tired but triumphant. "She has renounced her claim on the Son of Adam's blood," he announced.

Everyone cheered uproariously, including Aella. The Pevensies all laughed and hugged each other in relief, while much of Aslan's army crowded around them, whooping and laughing.

Suddenly, the Witch's voice broke through the celebrations. "But how do I know your promise will be kept?" she thundered at Aslan.

Aslan opened his mouth and roared, causing the ground itself to quake. Everyone laughed and cheered as the Witch started and stumbled into her litter. Without another word, she, Ginnarbrik, and her monsters left the camp, aided by more boos and jeering.

The only person who did not join in the celebrations was Aslan. He slipped back into his tent, unnoticed by anyone except for Lucy. She was the only one who saw the look of pain and sadness that scarred his beautiful and terrible face.


	8. Chapter 7

After the celebrations had calmed and everyone was back to their chores, Aella approached Aslan in his tent. He was standing over his strategy board, contemplating over his battle plans.

"You'll want to put the archers more towards the back, and at a higher level," Aella put in. "Keep your front lines out of danger. Either that, or place them directly behind the front lines, and have them shoot above their shoulders."

Aslan smiled. "Very good, Aella. I see Oreius has taught you well."

He sighed. "I suppose you're here to figure out the truth?"

Aella nodded. "How is it possible?" she asked. "My father was mortal. I possess some of his features as well, don't I? I can't be immortal."

"I'm afraid you are, Aella. Since you are female, you genetically possess more of your mother's qualities than your father's. Your mother's magic is more powerful than your father's mortality. I'm afraid you are going to live forever."

Aella winced, and tore at her hair with her hands. She kicked at the chair in anger. "It's not fair!" she screamed. "I didn't ask for any of this, I didn't ask for her to be my mother! She can't just leave me alone, can she? I can't escape from her! I finally find some happiness, and now she has to take that away from me! Now I can't be with Peter!"

She ran out of the tent, ignoring Aslan's cries. She tore through the camp, not stopping once and ignoring the stares from the others. It wasn't until she caught sight of Peter did she slow down.

"Peter," she gasped, grabbing his arm and ignoring the protesting Faun Peter had been talking to. "We need to talk. Now."

After retreating to their hill, Aella told Peter of her newfound immortality, and how it was impossible to continue their romance. He did not interrupt as she told her story, only creased his brow further and further as she went on. Finally, when Aella was finished, he stood, turned his back to her, and ran his finger through his hair, trying his absolute best not to scream in anger.

"So, you're saying," he said in wavering tones, "That you are never going to die, and because of that, we can't be together. I am going to die, and you're not, so it'll just be pointless."

Aella sighed. "Yes," she said quietly.

Peter turned to face her, blinking back threatening tears. "Well, that hardly seems fair, does it?"

"But it's the reality of the situation," Aella said. "Peter, it isn't going to last. If we are together, then I'll only get my hopes up, thinking that just maybe you won't die, but you will. And when you do, the rest of my life will be destroyed and alone. I'll have to live with that, _forever_." She stomped on the ground and growled loudly. "I'm sorry," she said angrily. "I finally find happiness and love, and I have to give it up. You, Oreius, Marbrush, Griff- everyone."

"No, you don't!" Peter said piercingly. "They can't lose you! _I _can't lose you! If you care about us, then what does it matter? You can enjoy what limited time we have!" He grasped her face in his hands and pressed his forehead to hers. "Wouldn't you rather have me in your life for a short while, instead of none at all?"

Aella screwed her face up, trying to keep the tears from streaming. "I can't. I can't! A shadow will always be lurking around us if we were to continue, as friends or romantic partners."

She pulled away, and put her back to him, folding her arms, shivering. She could feel Peter's stare on her back as he looked at her with utmost intensity.

"You're scared," he said quietly. "You were scared to love again, because you were afraid your friends would abandon you, like your father did. And now that you've found out that you're immortal, you know we're going to leave. Well, guess what, Aella! You're father's death was not in vain! He died for a free Narnia. He loved you. And I love you! I don't care about your parentage, or your past, or your powers, or your immortality. I love you. _You_,Aella. Your spark, your energy, your courage, your kindness, your humor, your strength… everything about you! I LOVE YOU!"

Aella shook, ripping into pieces inside. "Peter," she said tremblingly. "I don't even know what love is."

And, now positively roaring, she flew off, ignoring Peter's desperate cries. She raced off to the targets, which were totally abandoned. She pulled out her bow and arrows, and fired off arrow after arrow at the bulls eye, not noticing whether or not she was hitting the mark. She did not stop until she was completely tired out, and even then, she slammed her daggers into the ground.

"I HATE YOU!" she screamed. "I HATE YOU, FATHER! WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME? WHY DID YOU HAVE TO MARRY HER? … why didn't you tell me?" And no matter how hard she tried, she still couldn't cry. No matter how much she wanted to, she couldn't cry.

For the rest of the day, Aella and Peter did not spend the time in any romantic or friendly way. Instead, they spent their time with Oreius and Aslan, conducting battle plans for the Witch's next attack, ignoring each other politely. Aslan kept saying the Witch would attack the next day, so they built their strategy around that statement. Aella threw in many points here and there; stating the Witch's strengths and weaknesses, how Aella could help using her magic, and how much foot protection everyone should wear. "For those nasty little Ankle-Slicers," she said. "From my experience, trust me, they hurt." She proved it by showing the others the deep scars on her ankles. "And they were going easy on me then," she said. Peter made a mental note to wear plenty of foot armor.

"What about tonight?" he interjected. "Will the Witch try any form of attack tonight? And if so, shouldn't we move camp, behind the foothills?"

Aslan shook his head. "No, she'll not try any attack tonight," he said, rather distantly.

Aella glanced at Oreius, who shrugged. Since the meeting with the White Witch, Aslan had been acting oddly. He'd been distant and strange, and was often staring off into space.

"Sir, are you all right?" Oreius asked.

"I'm fine," Aslan said, a little too abruptly. "Please, let us concentrate on the matter at hand."

Aella nodded, although not without skepticism, and she and the others continued with the planning of the battle.

That night, when everyone was asleep, Aella stayed up, and took a walk in the woods, pondering at everything she'd experienced for the past three days. Her illness, her near-death experiences, her first Christmas and spring, her enemy finally being terminated, meeting Aslan, discovering her immortality, and Peter. Her whole life had changed in a space of three days. How was it possible to gain so much and lose it all over again in a space of three days? Why did she have to lose everything and everyone she loved? Her father, her childhood, and now Peter. The battle was on her doorstep. Who would die? Griff and Marbrush? Oreius? The Beavers? How many would she lose? And she, immortal, would watch them die, and have to live with that grief and pain. Not just through the aftermath of the war, but through all generations after that. She kicked a nearby stone in anger. _I hate being magic! I hate it! _She thought. _If only there were some way that I could give it all up_-

She looked down at her left hand. "The ring!" she whispered. Maybe the ring was the answer. Maybe the ring could relieve her of her powers. She could be free! She reached her right hand down, but hesitated. No, she would have to wait. She had to wait until the battle was over. The army needed her powers. She had to wait.

Suddenly, as she touched the ring, images flashed through her mind. Images of Father Christmas hugging her, images of Peter protecting his family, images of Griff, Marbrush, and Oreius, all performing different acts of protection and love. And, at that exact moment, she knew what love was. And she knew, that all along, despite her pain and hardships masking and oppressing her, she could love. She had loved so much all along and she didn't even notice it. And that no matter how hard she tried, death was going to come, whether or not she were immortal. And she knew that she loved Peter. She loved Peter more than she could ever imagine, and she knew why he loved her, despite her hard past. She remembered why he killed Maugrim, and she cursed herself, thinking how she foolishly hadn't recognized an act of love right then. He loved her, and she loved him.

"Aella!" A loud whisper startled Aella into pulling out her sword. She sighed in relief when she realized who it was.

"What? What is it?" she asked, putting away her sword.

Susan and Lucy were crouching behind some rocks, wrapped in cloaks and looking quite worried.

"We're following Aslan," whispered Lucy. "We think something may be wrong. Come on!"

Aella quietly followed as they slowly caught up with Aslan. He was walking slowly and forlornly, as if he were walking to his death. After about five minutes of the girls tiptoeing, ducking and weaving through the trees, Aslan stopped.

"Shouldn't you three be in bed?" he asked, his great head drooping desolately.

The girls bit their lips in guilt. They humbly walked toward Aslan, their heads bent in shame.

"We couldn't sleep," said Lucy.

"Please, Aslan, couldn't we come with you?" Susan asked kindly.

Aslan smiled tiredly. "I would be glad of the company for a while," he said softly. "Thank you."

Lucy slowly reached out her hand and grasped Aslan's mane. He looked surprised at first, and then he closed his eyes in contentment.

"Aslan, are you all right?" Aella asked, stroking his nose. "You look so tired."

"I have been better," he admitted, but said no more. He continued to walk, with the girls at his sides, in complete silence. No one said anything as they walked, for a great chilling, foreboding feeling of doubt gripped the air. Aella could sense something was very wrong, but she did not say anything, knowing she would not get an answer. Aslan knew what he was doing. She could not doubt him, not now.

After about five minutes, Aslan finally stopped.

"It is time. From here, I must go on alone."

"But Aslan…" Susan started.

"You have to trust me," Aslan said, almost sharply and gently at the same time. "For this must be done. Thank you, Susan. Thank you, Lucy. Thank you, Aella. And farewell."

None of the girls moved as Aslan walked on up the hill. When he disappeared, Aella, seized by a daring feeling, quietly flew upward toward the side of a crag on the hill. Susan and Lucy followed, trying to pull her back.

"Hush!" Aella whispered. "Over here!"

She crouched behind a bush and parted the branches a little to get a better look. She gasped at the horrendous scene before her.

A large, vast army was gathered on a rocky plateau. Horrible creatures, many in kind and sinister in nature, were stomping, snarling, whooping, and screeching as Aslan climbed up to the plateau, bearing torches and sinister smiles. Black dwarves, hags, boggles, goblins, giants, Cyclops, harpies, ogres, Minotaurs, Minoboars, werewolves, black satyrs, Ankle-Slicers, white tigers, and wolves jeered and cackled at Aslan as he walked up the plateau. One harpy had the nerve to fly down to Aslan and hiss in his face, but took off in fright at one look at Aslan's eyes. Aslan ignored the crowd, and stopped just in front of a large Stone Table covered with runes. And there, standing on the Stone Table, holding a long, cruel stone knife, was the White Witch. She was dressed entirely in black and feathers, and she bore a surprised but pleased look of triumph on her face. "Behold…" she said. "The Great Lion."

The White Witch nodded, and a large, brutish Minotaur walked up to Aslan, and surveyed him contemptuously.

Aella gasped. "I know him," she whispered. "That's General Otmin!"

General Otmin grunted, lifted his long axe, and poked Aslan with the butt of the axe. Aslan snarled, but he did not pounce. The Minotaur hesitated, but knocked Aslan to the ground with the flat of his axe-blade. The creatures laughed and cackled, emboldened by Aslan's immobility.

"You want some milk?" jeered Ginnarbrik, pulling comical faces at Aslan.

Aella growled. "Come on, Aslan!" she whispered fiercely. "Come on, fight back! You're stronger than them, fight back!"

But Aslan did not fight. He lay there, still and inert, letting the evil ones torture him.

"Bind him!" the Witch ordered.

Nearly all the goblins and Boggles stepped forward, and tied Aslan tightly with ropes and cords, wrapping them around his muzzle in particular.

The creatures started to drag him towards the Table, but the Witch stopped them.  
"Let him first be shaved!" she commanded.

Ginnarbrik confidently marched over to Aslan, pulling out a long knife. He grabbed a fistful of Aslan's mane, sheared it off, and held it up for everyone to see. Cheering, the other monsters pulled out their knives, jumped on Aslan, and sheared off his mane until it was completely gone, making Aslan look weak and feeble.

"Bring him to me," the Witch commanded. Two ogres and some Cyclops obeyed gleefully, dragging Aslan by the ropes up onto the large Table at the Witch's feet. She thrust out her hand, and all the monstrosities silenced.

At first, all was a deafening silence. Then, the hags began slowly pounding staffs into the ground in a chant. Others began to join in, pounding their weaponry and flags and clapping hands. Ginnarbrik looked quite ridiculous, jumping up and down and pounding his little fists together like a toddler.

Sneering, the Witch knelt down and began petting Aslan's fur, and whispered in his ear so that the girls could not hear her.

"What is she saying?" Lucy asked fearfully.

"Maybe if I get a bit closer-" Aella started to get up, but Susan pulled her back sharply.

"Are you mad? We'll be killed! Save your energy for the battle!" she whispered fiercely. Aella obeyed grudgingly.

The Witch stood, her knife at her side. "Tonight," she announced in ringing tones over the horrible din. "The Deep Magic… will be appeased! But tomorrow… we will take Narnia… FOREVER!"

The creatures then went absolutely crazy with joy. Pounding and clapping, they shook the earth with their noise.

"In that knowledge… despair…!"

She raised her knife, and Aella knew what was about to come next.

"Lucy, shut your eyes!" she commanded. Lucy, however, did not obey, but watched horrorstruck.

"AND DIE!"

As the White Witch brought her knife up, Aslan's beautiful eyes seemed to meet theirs for a moment. Then, as the knife plummeted into his side, his eyes flashed, then dimmed slowly as he died.

Lucy gasped, and clutched Aella, who brought Susan into a hug as well.

At first, the White Witch did nothing, but knelt there in shock. Then, her face pulled into a gleeful smile, and she roared, "The Great Cat IS DEAD!"

Her cry rang through the air like a gong and pierced Aella's heart. Not even the joyful cries of the army could cover up Jadis' cry.

"General!" The White Witch commanded. "Prepare the troops for battle! However short it may be."

After every creature had dispersed, Aella, Susan, and Lucy raced up the plateau to Aslan's body. Susan and Lucy collapsed on top of him, weeping profusely. Lucy pulled out her cordial and began to unscrew it, but Susan stopped her.

"It's too late," she sobbed. "He's gone."

Lucy's face contorted, and she buried her face in Aslan's neck, stroking his nose with difficulty due to the ropes.

"You fool!" Aella screamed, throwing herself on Aslan. "You stupid fool! Why now?" And, for the first time in her life, she finally cried. She sobbed heavily into his fur, beating his body with her fists. Susan reached over and grabbed Aella's hand, and she calmed.

"He must have known what he was doing," she whispered sadly. "He wouldn't have done it without good reason."

Aella raised her head, a dark, determined look on her face. "We have to warn the others."

"We can't just leave him!" Lucy cried.

"Lucy, there's no time," Susan said quietly. "They need to know."

"I'll go," Aella said, standing. "I'll fly there and warn everyone. You stay here with Aslan."

Susan looked up, her face tear-streaked. "Will you fight in the battle?"

Aella nodded. "I have to. I have an obligation to Narnia. I have to protect my country and my family."

"Then go. Please, give our brothers our love and luck. And good luck to you, my friend."

Lucy stood, and wrapped her arms around Aella's waist. "Please be careful," she said in a muffled voice. "I don't want to lose you too."

Aella smiled, and knelt down before Lucy, pulling her into a hug. "You won't, Lu," she said. "Thank you, for everything you have taught me. I am so glad to finally have sisters."  
She let go of Lucy, and looked at the two girls. "Send the tree spirits to warn the camp as well," she said. "In case anything should happen to me."

She wrapped her cloak around herself more tightly, ran off the edge of the plateau, and took off, flying to the campsite.

She had never flown as fast as she did that morning. The cold morning wind sliced at her face, causing her eyes to bleed slightly, but she ignored them. Her top priority was to warn the army, to warn Peter…

"Wake up!" she screamed as she finally reached the camp. "Wake up! Prepare for battle! The Witch is going to attack! She's coming! Prepare for battle! She has killed Aslan! Prepare for battle!"

She blew into Peter's tent, stopping abruptly as she blew through the petals of a tree spirit and narrowly avoiding Peter's drawn sword.

"Aella!" Peter gasped. "What in the name of Aslan-"

"He's dead!" she panted, collapsing on the ground in fatigue. Peter rushed over and lifted her off the ground.

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"Aslan's gone," Aella said, trying to stand on her own, but failing. "He's dead. The Witch killed him. Susan and Lucy are with his body now. The Witch is going to attack tomorrow. We have to prepare for battle now. She's coming!"

Oreius, Edmund, and Aella were grouped around the strategy table in front of Aslan's tent, their expressions somber and cold. The whole camp was awake, bustling around with their armor and weaponry, preparing for the upcoming battle. Peter slowly came out of Aslan's tent and leaned on the table for support.

"They're right," he said, chokingly. "He's gone."

Oreius bowed his head in respect. Edmund stared at the table, and Aella simply stared at Peter, at a total loss for words and feeling utterly helpless.

Edmund sighed. "Then you'll have to lead us," he said to his brother. Peter stared at his brother, shocked and scared.

"Peter, There's an army out there, and it's ready to follow you!"

"I can't!" Peter said desperately.

"Aslan believed you could!" He gazed at Peter's disbelieving face. "And so do I."

There was a ringing silence after Edmund's speech, in which Peter stared firmly at Edmund with startled blue eyes.

"The Witch's army is nearing, sire," Oreius broke in quietly. "What are your orders?"

Noontime found Peter's army fully assembled and waiting for the White Witch's army north of Beruna. Half of the army was waiting in place on a large field, with the Cats and spear holders in front. The other half was up on a large hill with Edmund and Mr. Beaver. This half consisted of centaur and red dwarf archers and hiding satyrs and fauns. All were waiting apprehensively with bated breath. Here and there, a few twitched. It was a clear, cloudless sky, ideal conditions.

Suddenly, Griff approached the army via the sky, screeching. He landed down next to Peter, who was sitting bareback on a white unicorn, clothed fully in Narnian armor.

"They come, Your Highness," Griff panted worriedly. "With numbers and weapons far greater than our own!"

"Numbers do not win a battle," said Oreius wisely, standing next to Peter, with Aella standing on his back.

"No," Peter answered Oreius. "But I bet they help."

Suddenly, a loud horn sounded, and over the plain appeared the frontlines of the Witch's army, led by General Otmin the Minotaur. The army was vast and menacing, snarling and whooping as they stopped yards away but very much in view of Peter's army. All were frightening, but none nearly as formidable as the White Witch herself. She was clad in a dress made of mail and yellow fur, and was wearing a headdress made entirely of Aslan's shorn mane. She was riding a lethal-looking chariot, driven by snarling polar bears.

Aella sighed deeply. She knew then she had to leave to start her job on the first attack. So she quietly floated off Oreius' back, hovered in front of him at eye level, and hugged him tightly. "Thank you," she said. "For being the best father anyone could ask for."

Oreius smiled slightly, hugging her back. "Thank you for being my daughter," he said gruffly.

Aella let go, and floated over to Peter, pulling a red rose out of her sleeve, and carefully tucking it in his shield strap. "I love you, Peter Pevensie," she said, smiling widely.

Peter started, but smiled back, his eyes brimming slightly with tears. "I love you too," he said determinedly.

Aella quickly gave him a kiss on the cheek, and flew off towards Edmund and disappeared behind the rocks.

Peter, still nervous but emboldened, let out a breath, and slowly pulled his sword out of its hilt. He held it out at arms length, and a clear horn sounded from a centaur, and the Narnian army cheered and roared their victory cries.

At that, General Otmin let out a braying roar, and the frontlines began moving forward, cheering uproariously and brandishing their weapons. Peter's army, however, did not move.

Peter then brought his sword up, and swung it back down in a slicing manner. Then, out of the sky came a massive horde of gryphons, all squawking and carrying massive boulders. Aella was among them, carrying the largest boulder as if it were as light as a cotton ball. The gryphons and Aella dropped their boulders upon the White Witch's army, narrowly avoiding the arrows shooting upwards from black dwarves and satyrs. Many of the monsters were flattened, but unfortunately not enough. Aella pulled out her bow and arrows, and began shooting incessantly. She circled lower, aiming to land on the ground for some hand-to-hand combat. To add a bit of pain and flavor, she shot fireballs and lava at the army between shots.

Peter and Oreius quietly watched this display with grave looks on their faces.

Peter turned to Oreius. "Are you with me?" he asked.

Oreius beamed, pulling out his sword. "To the death," he replied nobly.

Peter smiled, and held his sword out like a guiding light.

"FOR NARNIA!" He screamed. "AND FOR ASLAN!"

At that, the army roared and charged toward the White Witch's army. Aella could hear and feel the earth quake from their galloping, and she could hear the growling and yowling of the great Cats. Aella abandoned her combat and flew towards Peter's army. Oreius held out his arm, and Aella grabbed it and swung onto his back, a favorite trick they had practiced often.

_Collision_.

Peter's army and the Witch's army collided and crashed like two gargantuan waves. All spears shattered as they successfully hit their marks, and the Cats wrapped around their adversaries as they ripped them apart. Aella stood on Oreius' back and fired her bow again and again, and occasionally hurled her daggers, which all returned faithfully. She sliced with her sword and Peter successfully killed all he contacted with his own. She stayed on Oreius' back without falling, despite his rocking and twisting as he battled the monsters with his two swords. After a bit, and arrow came out of nowhere, and hit Aella on the shoulder! Peter saw this, and he started going towards her. But Aella simply pulled out the arrow and shot it at the Black Dwarf that had fired it at her. She continued fighting as if nothing had happened, and ignored the bleeding in her shoulder.

After a few minutes of sword clanging, arrow firing, and axe bashing, The Witch began to move forward on her chariot, and the rest of the army marched behind her. Edmund signaled to one of his centaurs, which pulled out a flaming arrow and fired it. Almost instantly, out of the flames came a glorious phoenix. It swooped down to the field, and set a long lane of fire down, dividing Peter's army and the Witch's army, catching a few Minotaurs and Werewolves on fire as well.

Peter's army cheered. The Witch's army was blocked, and they were saved!

But their relief was short lived, for the Witch's magic was too strong. She created a magic bubble that burst through the flames and extinguished them! Her army rushed on ahead, whooping and laughing.

Peter cursed silently. "Fall back!" he yelled to his army, and their horn sounded. "Draw them to the rocks! Fall back!"

"That's our signal!" cried Mr. Beaver, pulling Edmund's arm. "Come on!"

Edmund's army turned and raced to the rocks where they would meet Peter's and the Witch's army.

Peter's army came to the rocks, closely followed by the Witch's monsters. Edmund's army was stationed on the rocks, all archers prepared to fire. Edmund brought his sword down, and thousands of arrows flew and hit their marks.

But Ginnarbrik was ahead of them. Pulling out an arrow, he fired, and it hit Peter's unicorn on the leg, sending him flying.

But it was far from over. Oreius and a gigantic rhinoceros came barreling out of nowhere. Peter tried to stop them, but Oreius ignored him. Aella was no longer on his back; she was busy on the ground, now battling with her sword and staff, abandoning her bow and arrows on her back. She was doing quite well. At some points, she even looped her braid around a Boggle's neck and butted heads, knocking the Boggles out.

The rhinoceros thundered down the rocks, crushing and obliterating every evil thing in its path with its feet and horn. It seemed as though nothing could beat the rhino, until a mass of Ankle- Biters, Black Dwarves and Boggles overpowered it and brought it down.

Oreius, however, simply jumped over the rhinoceros, but he ignored the petty Boggles and satyrs and such. Instead, he charged straight for General Otmin. Otmin thrust his axe at Oreius, but he knocked it clean off his hands. Otmin grasped at Oreius' armor, and Oreius dragged him on as he kept running. Otmin tried to kill him with his horns, but Oreius brought his two swords up and struck Otmin in the back, instantly killing him.

Pumped from the battle, Oreius boldly charged towards the White Witch, who was still driving her chariot. He leaped over the chariot, avoiding the bears and clashing swords with the Witch. He circled the chariot, coming so close to killing her… but the Witch struck him in the stomach with her wand, turning him into stone.

Aella was killing a Cyclops when she saw the Witch turn Oreius into stone. For a brief moment, she froze. Then, her face wrenching in anger, she screamed.

"NOOOOOOOOO!"

At that moment, no one is exactly sure what happened. Some say her mind snapped. Others say her powers went into an unknown higher level. All we know is that at that moment, her whole body erupted in flames, and she grew to ten feet. Her blade and staff turned white hot, but they didn't melt or burn to cinders. She swung her blades and punched, and she demolished all she touched. Every bit of flesh she contacted with sizzled and burned. She tried to fight her way through the crowd, but there were too many. The Witch continued to turn members of Peter's army into stone, including Marbrush and Griff. Griff was in midair when he was turned to stone, and he crashed against the ground, smashing into tiny pieces and killing many.

Peter paused for a moment, staring at the carnage before him. His army was losing, quickly being depleted or turned to stone. Aella was out of control, killing everyone in her path, friend and foe.

"Edmund!" he yelled to his brother, who was slaying an ogre at the moment. "There's too many of them! Find the girls, and get them home!" At that moment, a Minotaur came up to him, and he had to fight.

Mr. Beaver pulled at the immobile Edmund. "You heard him, let's go!" he yelled.

Edmund started to run, but he stopped. He couldn't run now, not when Narnia needed help. But how could he, a traitor, help?

Then, it hit him. He watched, as Witch turned so many into stone, making things much worse for the army. He could destroy the wand! Besides, he had a score to settle with her.

"Peter said get out of here!" urged Mr. Beaver.

"Peter's not king yet," Edmund said firmly.

And he charged towards the Witch, his sword held high. She was advancing towards Peter, her wand raised. Yelling, Edmund jumped behind her, and brought his sword down, but missed! She turned, gazed hatefully at him, and thrust forward her wand, attempting to turn him into stone. Edmund dodged, and swung his sword down, and broke her wand into a thousand pieces! Her magic was gone. She couldn't use it anymore.

She could, however, still use it to kill. Angered, she brought her sword up and swung Ed's sword out of his hands. She thrust her wand into Edmund's stomach, and, gasping, he collapsed with the pain, as if dead.

Peter watched the whole affair, screaming as if he were the one getting stabbed. Emboldened, he thrust his sword into the Minotaur he had been battling, killing him. Peter charged towards the Witch, who discarded her wand and picked up another sword. He knocked all creatures out of his way, yelling loudly.

It was two swords against one. The Witch was very skilled with her two blades, swooshing and slashing them as if it were dance instead of battle. Both were equally excellent at blocking and attacking, which proved badly for both. Peter's rage nearly killed him at some points, but the Witch remained cool and calm. Peter was knocked down to the ground, but he quickly got back up, and continued to attack. The Witch attempted to cut off his head by crossing her swords, but Peter flexibly leaned back in time. The Witch's bare arms and swords flashed as they slit through the air. Peter was losing, and was getting tired.

All through her rampage, Aella was not seeing what she was doing; only burning all incessantly. A small glance at Peter fighting against the Witch quickly ended her blind fury. Her fire disappeared, and she shrunk down to normal size as she watched them for a moment.

"No…" she gasped. "Not Peter too…"

She raced onwards, hurling daggers at any creature that got in her way, as she tried to get to the Witch. She concentrated at what she was doing, whom she was killing, and her mind was finally clear. She had to help Peter now, her rampaging could not bring Oreius, Marbrush and Griff back from the dead.

Suddenly, without warning, an earsplitting roar filled the air, quaking the earth and sending a familiar chill down Aella's back. There, standing on the cliff, mane shining against the sun, was Aslan! He was alive!

Everyone froze, including Peter and the Witch. "Impossible!" she gasped.

Out from behind the rocks came a massive army, led by Susan, who was shooting arrows, and Lucy, holding the hand of Tumnus! He too was all right!

Out of the corner of her eye, Aella saw movement. The White Witch was raising her sword, and Peter was still distracted!

"Peter!" she screeched, flying forward so fast she was naught but a blur. But it was too late. The White Witch struck Peter in the arm, and he faltered, but continued to fight. She swung one sword down, tripping Peter down to the ground, and she pinned him down, still alive, with one of her swords by his chain mail. He screamed in pain, but blocked her strike with his shield. Sneering, she swung it out of his grasp, and he was completely unprotected. The Witch raised her sword high in the air to strike…

Aella rammed her mother's side with her head so hard she was blown sideways. Aella flung her sword down to strike, but the Witch blocked it. The Witch leapt up, still holding her sword, and she and Aella fought violently.

"You beat me!" Aella cried, swinging her sword round, but was blocked. She continued to rant as she beat her mother down with her sword, but the Witch was still too strong. "You ignored me! You killed my father! You sent Maugrim to kill me! You killed Marbrush, and Oreius, and Griff! BUT YOU WILL NOT KILL PETER! YOU WILL NOT KILL THE LOVE OF MY LIFE! YOU WILL NOT KILL THE ONLY PERSON I HAVE LEFT!"

She thrust one of her daggers into the Witch's belly, letting it hang there triumphantly. The White Witch, however, merely grimaced, and pulled out the dagger. She swung her sword and knocked Aella backwards, and she landed next to Peter, who was struggling to free himself. The White Witch flicked Aella's dagger, and it pinned her arm to the ground, rendering her unable to move.

The White Witch dropped down and grabbed Aella's hair, grinning terribly. She turned Aella's head to Peter.

"It never ends," she shouted. "You will always be left behind. Now, I shall have the pleasure of making you watch your love die, just like you watched your father." She raised her sword, leering and preparing to plunge it into Peter's heart, laughing at Aella's struggling.

Aslan leapt out of nowhere, roaring his terrible roar. He blew the Witch off her feet, and they flew at least ten feet backwards. The last thing Jadis, the White Witch, false Queen of Narnia and mother of Aella, ever saw were the great and terrible jaws of Aslan.

Aella struggled and finally pulled the dagger off her sleeve. She stood and yanked the sword out of Peter's arm, and helped him up. Both stood and stared at Aslan, ignoring the new army pouring in. The Witch's mutilated body lay behind Aslan, who ignored it.

"It is finished," he said in the deep, rumbling tones Aella never thought she'd hear again. And he was right. The long, hundred-year battle was over. All the monsters were dead and gone.

"Peter!"

Susan and Lucy rushed over to their brother, and Lucy grasped him into a hug. Susan, however, looked around worriedly.

"Where's Edmund?"

Edmund lay on the ground, still alive, but gasping for air and weak. Ginnarbrik was dragging his axe toward Edmund, and he raised it, preparing to slice Edmund in half…

"Edmund!" Susan quickly strung her bow and shot Ginnarbrik straight in the chest. Aella and the Pevensies rushed over to Edmund, taking off his helmet and holding his head up.

Lucy quickly pulled out her cordial, unscrewed it, and poured a drop into Edmund's mouth. He swallowed the drop, relaxed his body, and stopped breathing, causing everyone to think for a moment that he was dead. Suddenly, he opened his eyes and coughed, and everyone laughed in relief.

Peter grabbed his brother by the arms and brought him into a fierce hug, his eyes brimming with tears. "When are you going to do as you're told?" he said chokingly laughing.

Edmund shrugged. "This is me we're talking about," he quipped weakly.

Peter laughed, and brought all of his siblings into a tight, family hug. Aella smiled, and got up, preparing to leave to give the others privacy and help the wounded.

Peter, noticing Aella was leaving, let go of his siblings and raced after her. Seized once more by a familiar daring, he grabbed her shoulders and openly kissed her, ignoring Lucy's squeals of pleasure and Edmund's of disgust.

Eventually, Aella let go, blushing heavily and smiling. She looked over Peter's shoulder, and saw Aslan breathing on the stone statue that was Marbrush. Slowly, the stone melted off, and Marbrush breathed a huge gasp. He was alive!

"Marbrush!" Aella cried, rushing over to him and hugging him. "Griff's gone," she said tearfully. "He smashed against the rocks."

"I know. He got it just before I did," said Marbrush.

Aella sniffed back her tears. "But, hey, we won!" she said, wiping her face. "We won!"

"Yeah," said Marbrush, hugging her. "We won."


	9. Chapter 8

Three weeks after the battle, three weeks of funeral services, cleaning the camp, and preparation of the palace, the coronation finally arrived.

Cair Paravel was a magnificent palace, made entirely of white marble and gold, with rich beautiful halls and balconies, all overlooking a marvelous beach. For the coronation, flowers and banners and flags were hung everywhere. Clear silver trumpets rang through the halls, announcing the arrival and start of the ceremony.

Centaurs lined a large aisle, holding flags and swords in salute. Fauns and satyrs were lined behind them, holding their weaponry in salute as well. Aella stood closer to the thrones, next to Oreius, holding out her sword. She was no longer wearing her tunic, leggings, boots, and braid. She wore a slim velvet green dress lined with gold trim, and stitched with small yellow leaves. Her long brown hair was curled, and cascaded down her back.

Aslan, Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy regally strode down the aisle, smiling and looking magnificent. The boys were to Aslan's left, the girls to his right. Peter was dressed in gold hose, black boots lined with gold, a rich blue velvet shirt, and a gold cape. Edmund was the same, except in silver instead of gold, and his shirt was grayish-silver, his cape silver as well. Both boys had the Tree of Knowledge stitched on their shirts, leafy, glorious, and exuberant.

Susan was magnificently dressed in a lovely gray-blue dress, with flowing blue bucket sleeves and gold trim, her cape blue, her hair pulled back in a magnificently curled braid. Lucy was in a lovely bright silver-blue dress inlaid with pearls, her cape red and hair curled. All children wore beaming smiles and shining eyes that could melt the coldest hearts. Peter smiled at Aella as he passed her, who beamed lovingly back.

They each stepped up to their thrones and regally stood before them. Each throne had a symbol to signify each monarch: Peter's a sword, Edmund's a smaller sword, Susan's a horn, and Lucy's a cordial.

"To the glistening Eastern Sea," began Aslan. "I give you Queen Lucy the Valiant."

As Aslan spoke, Tumnus and Mr. and Mrs. Beaver stepped up from the audience. Mr. and Mrs. Beaver were grasping pillows, each with two crowns on them. Mr. Tumnus was wearing a velvet green scarf and a very big smile. He took a tiara from Mrs. Beaver's pillow, and placed it gently on Lucy's head. The tiara was silver carved into a juniper vine, with little juniper flowers. Mr. Tumnus and Lucy beamed at each other.

"To the great Western Wood, King Edmund the Just." Tumnus took a silver crown from Mr. Beaver's pillow, the points of the crown carved in the likeness of birch leaves. Edmund positively radiated when he heard his new title.

"To the radiant Southern sun, Queen Susan the Gentle."

Tumnus placed a golden tiara (much like Lucy's) atop Susan's head, her flowers little daffodils instead of juniper.

"And to the clear Northern Sky, I give you King Peter the Magnificent."

A golden crown with oak-leaf shaped points was placed on Peter's head, who gazed proudly at his subjects, his head held high. Though he still bore a proud air about him like he always did, it was now a more accomplished pride than a defiant one. Watching him stand there with the beautiful crown on his head and eyes that matched his title brought tears of joy streaming down Aella's face. She felt so happy for Peter, for all four monarchs, that she could not contain her joy. She stood in her place, still holding her sword, and, for the first time in her life, crying of happiness.

The four new monarchs sat in their thrones, and Aslan turned and addressed them. "Once a king or queen of Narnia, always a king or queen. May your wisdom grace us until the stars rain down from the heavens."

He turned to the crowd, and everyone began shouting. The loudest of all were the Beavers, Aella, and Mr. Tumnus. "Long live King Peter! Long live King Edmund! Long live Queen Susan! Long live Queen Lucy!"

Late that night, when it was total darkness and everyone was asleep, Aella took a walk to the balcony, overlooking the sea. Breathing in the salty air, she let her mind wander, thinking about the day's events.

It had been a glorious celebration. There was dancing and drinking, and everyone had a marvelous time. She and Peter had danced nearly the entire time, almost crashing into everyone. They both may have been able to control the sword, but what they could not do properly was dance. However, they did have fun, as did Susan, who danced with the Fox who had helped them earlier, and Edmund, telling wild stories to anyone who would listen, and Lucy, who spent the entire time with Tumnus. Aslan, however, had mysteriously disappeared during the festivities, but Mr. Tumnus said that was to be expected. Aslan was a wanderer, and he hardly ever stayed in one place longer than he needed to. Lucy cried her eyes out when she heard this, but she was soon comforted. Aella, however, felt a deep sadness that she could not express with tears. Aslan had become a mentor to her, a being of faith, trust, and wisdom. She knew Aslan hardly ever stayed in one place, but she had secretly hoped he would stay. She had grown accustomed to his presence, and he was greatly missed by all.

"Aella?"

Peter was standing behind her, back in his cotton pants and shirt, and leather boots and jerkin. He had silently snuck up behind Aella, who was so wrapped up in her thoughts of Aslan that she did not hear him approach.

She smiled, ran up to him, and hugged him tightly.

"What are you doing?" Peter asked. "It's late, you should be in bed."

Aella shrugged. "I wanted to take a walk," she said. "I've never seen the sea before, I wanted to see what it was like."

Peter sighed, wrapping his arms round her waist. "It's amazing… the simple things you've never seen before that my family and I take for granted every day! I could never live without spring. I don't know how you could live like that."

"Eh, I got accustomed to it," said Aella lightly, leaning against the balcony. "But, yes, it was rather bleak. I'm quite glad for some change."

She sighed happily, breathing in the salty air. "Peter, do you remember asking me if I thought you'd be a good king?"

Peter nodded.

"I've been thinking long and hard about that question, because when you asked me, I had no idea. I thought about when I first met you, when you grabbed my mouth to shut me up and I slammed you into the ground, remember? The reason I didn't kill you… was because of the look in your eyes. I could see such an amazing amount of determination and bravery, that it intrigued me. I also remember how you pushed yourself to make sure I was all right when I got sick, and the wolves were chasing us. I saw how you would not rest until all three of your siblings _and _me _and _the Beavers all made it safely to the camp. You are a natural born leader, Peter Pevensie. You are brave, loyal, determined, and proud. And all these qualities are what make a phenomenal king, and a good husband."

Peter stared at her. "Wh… what at are you insinuating?" he asked.

Aella smiled, and held up her left hand, showing him the ring Father Christmas had given her. "I'm glad you're here," she said. "Because I know what to wish for now, and I want _you_ to see it. Just promise me you won't try to stop me, all right? I'm making the right choice for me. I know what I'm doing."

Peter hesitated for a moment, then nodded, unsure if he was prepared for what he was about to witness, whatever it may be.

"A month ago," Aella began. "I thought being a human meant being weak, like my father was. I considered my father to be weak because he gave himself up. But now that I know exactly what my father went through, and exactly what I want in my life, I see that being human is the best gift in the world."

Aella took a deep breath and a step back, and she squared her shoulders, preparing herself. She grasped the ring on her finger, and shouted.

"I wish I was a mortal, magic-free, one hundred percent Daughter of Eve!"

And, before Peter could say or do anything, she turned the ring once around her finger, concentrating on her wish. The ruby stone glowed brightly, and Aella cried out in shock and pain. Peter worriedly rushed over to her.

Suddenly, her whole body snapped rigidly upright like a poker, her arms held straight beside her and expression blank, and Peter was knocked backwards. She rose up in the air, floating onto her back so that she was lying down in midair. Her mouth opened, and a large jet of water began shooting up into the sky. Her hands opened, and jets of fire shot into the sky, twisting and braiding with the jet of water. Rocks came spiraling out of her feet, and interlocked with the fire and water, and out of her eyes came blasts of wind that swooped and spiraled around the fire/water/rock braid. Her whole body glowed pure white, and a beam of pure white light shot from her heart and shot up into the center of the braid.

Suddenly, as quickly as it had come, the light and the pillar vanished, and Aella dropped from the sky like a stone. Peter quickly ran forward and caught her just in time. "Are you all right?" he asked, kneeling on the ground and holding her.

Aella raised her head, and shook it like a dog shakes off water. "Whew!" she said. "That is one experience I'll never forget!"

She raised her hand, and clenched it. Nothing happened. "No fire…" she muttered. She stood, and jumped into the air… and she fell to the ground. "I can't fly!" she said, standing up again. She laughed jubilantly, and ran forward, and tackled Peter. "I'm free! My powers are gone! I'm human! Every bit of me that came from my mother is gone. I'M FREE!"

Peter, still holding Aella, stood up, picked her up by the arms, and swung her around in circles, laughing.

"I love you, Aella!" he declared, stopping.

"I love you, Peter!" she answered, burying her face in his neck.

Peter put her down, took a deep breath, and knelt before her, picking up the ring that had fallen off her finger and holding it up.

"Will you marry me?" he asked quietly.

Aella's mouth opened wide, and she stared at Peter. "I… what… I don't…"

"I talked to Oreius," he said, still kneeling. "He says we're old enough, according to Narnian tradition, and he thinks I'm a worthy candidate."

Aella stared and stuttered at Peter, unable to answer. "But… I… I mean…"

Peter quickly grasped her hand. "Aella, I love you, and I was willing to marry you even though you were immortal. You were and still more than what your powers portrayed you to be. Like you said, any fool can carry a sword. It's how you use it that matters. Your powers were the same way. You used your powers for good, to free Narnia. You are everything I've ever wanted and more, and so I ask you again; will you marry me?"

Aella covered her mouth in shock, but she smiled and nodded her head. "Yes," she said, joyfully. "I will marry you, Peter. I will marry you."

Peter's face broke into a joyful smile. He slipped the ring on Aella's right hand, pulled her down, and kissed her. They kissed and hugged so vigorously, that they fell over on the balcony floor and hurt their heads.

"Peter!" Susan's voice cut through the air. She was standing on her balcony jutting out from her room. "What is going on? What are you and Aella doing?" she asked.

"We're getting married!" Peter shouted joyfully. "I just asked her to marry me! We're getting married!"

Susan gasped, and raced back inside. Peter and Aella laughed, and clutched each other in happiness, swinging in circles. Susan quickly ran downstairs and up to the two lovers.

"Are you serious?" she asked as Peter breathlessly put Aella down. "You're getting married?"

"Yes," gasped Aella. "We're getting married. And Susan, I would be honored if you were my maid of honor."

Susan stared at them, completely dumbstruck. "Of… of course!" she stammered. "But, isn't it a little soon? I mean you're a little young-"

"Peter's sixteen, I'm almost sixteen, and according to Narnian tradition, it's the perfect age to marry," said Aella breathlessly. "We know what we're doing, Susan. Somehow, I knew I'd marry him the minute I met him."

Peter laughed. "I wish I could say the same thing," he said. "But when I met you, I was scared out of my wits!"

Susan smiled. "Well, I guess all I can say is, welcome to the Pevensie family, Aella," she cried, hugging her.

"Trust me Susan, nothing would please me more than by becoming a Pevensie. And _not _because you're royalty."

Peter grabbed his fiancé's hand, pulling her into a tight embrace. "Are you ready to become Mrs. Peter Pevensie?" he asked.

Aella brushed his check with her hand. "Ready as I'll ever be."

"I now pronounce you husband and wife!"

It was one year after the proposal, and Cair Paravel was once again decorated lavishly, this time for a wedding instead of a coronation. The palace was packed full of subjects once again, and the largest wedding cake, baked expertly by Faun housewives, was included in the feast.

Peter and Aella were waving and smiling up upon the throne platform at their guests, who were cheering and clapping. Susan and Lucy were Aella's bridesmaids, and Edmund and Tumnus were the ushers. Susan was the maid of honor, and Edmund the best man. Oreius was there to give the bride away, and even Aslan had arrived at the last minute to bestow his blessings. Peter and Edmund were in their coronation outfits, but Susan and Lucy were in beautiful matching red dresses, and Aella was in a beautiful white wedding gown set with pearls and rhinestones. Everyone looked older, with longer hair and stubble on Peter and Edmund's chins. Aella carried a beautiful bouquet of red and white roses, which she threw into the crowd, and was caught by a sheepish Marbrush.

Peter linked arms with his wife, and turned, addressing the crowd. "Aella and I would like to thank everyone for coming today to show their support. We greatly appreciate you all coming to witness the most magical moment of our lives. _I_ would also like to thank Susan, Edmund, and Lucy," he gestured to his siblings, who waved and smiled back. Susan wiped a tear from her eye. "For being the best brother and sisters anyone could ask for. You three are the best in the world, and I don't know what I would do without you. And Aslan," Aslan bowed back to Peter. "You have been our mentor, our guidance, and I would not have become a proper king without you, so my deepest and most heartfelt thanks to you, my friend."

Aella smiled at Aslan, and then turned to Oreius. "I would like to thank my father, Oreius, who has been the best person in the world, the one who has given me everything a father should." Oreius bowed, a small tear coursing down his usually emotionless face.

"I would also like to thank my good friend Marbrush, who has always been there for me, and never lets me down. Also, the Beaver family, who have not only led myself, but Peter, Susan and Lucy through our journey to meet Aslan before the war, and for helping us whenever we needed them. They have been my friends for a long time, and I love them very much." Marbrush and the Beavers beamed in happiness, and Mrs. Beaver fussed with her fur once again in a flustered way.

"And though, sadly, he could not be here today, I would like to thank my dear friend Griff, and all others who gave their lives in the battle against the Witch one year ago. They sacrificed their lives for Narnia, and we would not be here if not for them." She wiped away a small tear from her eye, but she continued, looking skyward. "Griff, if you can hear me, thank you. Thank you for always giving me the hope that one day Narnia would be free. You were the reason I fought in the war, and were it not for you, I wouldn't have had the courage to fight properly. So, thank you my friend."

She met Marbrush's eyes, which were tear-filled and sad. He and Griff had grown up together, from egg and womb to battle.

Peter wrapped his arms around his wife and kissed her cheek. "I have a gift for you," he whispered. "Mr. Beaver, Tumnus, if you will!" he called.  
Mr. Beaver and Tumnus marched up the steps, Mr. Beaver carrying a silk pillow, much like the one he carried on the coronation. Resting on the pillow was an exquisite bronze tiara, carved in the likeness of a thin vine with tiny rosebuds.

Tumnus gently lifted the tiara, and gave it to Peter. Peter took the tiara, took off Aella's beautiful veil that cascaded down her back, and gently placed the tiara on her head.

"From the beautiful Northwestern caves in the Shuddering Wood, I give you Princess Aella, Warrior of Narnia."

Aella clapped her hands to her mouth, completely in shock. For a moment, she was completely speechless, and then she threw her arms around her husband, laughing and sobbing at the same time. Peter happily held his wife, kissing her face and neck. "I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too," Aella sobbed. "Oh, thank you so much!"

She broke away, wiping the tears off her face. "I thought… I didn't think… I didn't think I'd be royalty if we were married… I thought I'd still be a simple commoner! I… oh, thank you!"

Aslan approached her and put a paw on her shoulder. "Are you sure you're ready to be royalty again?" he said gravely. "Are you ready to assume this responsibility?"

Aella gave him a watery smile and a hug. "With you, King Peter, Oreius, and Marbrush at my side, I can do no wrong."

For the rest of her life, Aella lived up to her title with grace, beauty, and honor. She helped the royal family to govern Narnia, using her wisdom and skill in strategic planning in the times of battle and peace. Oreius continued to live at the palace as Commander of the Royal Army, so she always had him to guide her when she needed him. Marbrush became the Bard of the Royal Court, and remained Aella's best friend.

Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy were the greatest and most legendary kings and queens Narnia ever possessed. For years, they cared for and protected Narnia from the evil creatures that rebelled against them for their fallen queen. The malicious ones, however, were always defeated. The Pevensie family lived up to their titles better than any could expect. Peter grew into a very brave and strong warrior. Edmund grew into a wise, handsome man, excellent at making laws and planning battles. Susan became a long, black-haired beauty, causing princes from many lands to beg for her hand. And Lucy was always sweet and stunning, and neighboring princes also begged for her hand. Peter always remained faithful to his beautiful wife, and she too never wavered. True, they quarreled occasionally, but never fought so hard that they became truly angry at each other.

Six years after their marriage, Aella came running down the halls of the palace, declaring she was pregnant. Peter rejoiced at the thought of becoming a father; he'd wanted to be one for a long time, but somehow Aella could not become pregnant. For a while, the pregnancy went smoothly. They even picked out names for the baby before Aella's stomach got large. The names were to be Rose if it was a girl, Shane if it was a boy. Then, seven months into her pregnancy, Aella went into premature labor.

She struggled and fought as hard as she could, but she could not save her baby. Despite her pains and struggles, the baby did not survive. But even after the baby was born, Aella continued to bleed. For at least an hour after the labor, she kept hemorrhaging. Peter hovered outside Aella's room, waiting to hear of any news, good or bad.

An hour after the labor, the doctor, a Dryad, came out of Aella's room. He looked extremely grave. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty," he said quietly. "We managed to slow down the bleeding, but she has lost too much. I'm afraid she will not survive."

Peter's face crumpled. He brought his hands to his face, trying to control himself, but he could not keep the tears from rolling out of his eyes.

"She has already given us burial instructions for herself and the baby. She wishes to see you before she dies."

Peter wiped his face. "How long does she have?" he choked.

The doctor shrugged. "A minute, five minutes, I don't know. But I know for sure she will not last longer than fifteen."

Peter nodded. "Does she have any messages to pass on?" he asked.

"She only said she wanted to see you before she died. She seemed to know before we even told her. You must hurry, I don't know how much longer she has."

Peter nodded again, and he slowly entered the room, trying to compose himself as best as possible. Aella was lying on the bed, the sheets covered in blood. She was pale and haggard, but beautiful as ever. Dryad doctors still hovered over her, still trying to stop the bleeding.

"Leave us," Peter commanded. The doctors looked at each other in shock, but they obeyed their king. Once Aella and Peter were alone, Aella opened her eyes and raised her head slightly.

"Peter…" she rasped. Peter rushed over to his wife, and cradled her head in his arms. "I'm dying, Peter," she continued. "I'm going to die."

"I know," Peter choked. "The doctor told me. Are you scared?"

Aella weakly shook her head. "I'm not afraid. Griff will be there. He's been waiting for me. He's the one who told me I was going to die." She paused, diving into a severe coughing fit. "I'm not afraid of dying. In fact, considering what I used to be, I'm glad. I couldn't die before, remember? Besides, Griff and the baby will be there."

Peter broke into tears at that moment, no longer able to control himself. "It's not fair," he said, pressing his chin on her forehead. "You're so young!"

"That doesn't matter," she said. "What matters is that I lived, and lived well."

"I don't want you to leave me," Peter buried his face in her damp hair.

"I won't. I'll always be with you. Rose and I will be waiting for you."

Peter looked at his wife in surprise. "Rose?"

Aella nodded. "It was a girl," she said. "That was what we were going to name our baby if it was a girl."

Peter nodded. "Yes, you're right. A girl! I had a daughter!"

Aella nodded. Then, she plunged once again into a fit of coughing, and her sheets became redder with fresh blood. "I don't have much time," she choked. "Just hold me, please."

Peter held his wife tighter, rocking her back and forth. "If I could, I would hold you forever," he said desolately.

Aella pulled her arm up with great effort, and wrapped it around Peter's shoulder, holding him closer. "Peter…" she rasped. "Please… sing to me. Sing."

Peter stared at her. "Me? But, I can't sing!"

"Please… just sing. Sing me to my death, please. I want to die hearing your voice. And you know how much I love music. Please… sing to me."

Peter hesitated, but he laid his wife back down on the bed, rushed to the door, and peeked his head out. Marbrush was waiting outside the door.

"Marbrush! Thank Aslan you're here. Do you have your lute and flute?"

Marbrush looked shocked, but nodded.

"Good. I want you to play the song we were constructing for her, for the baby's baptism."

"But, my Lord, it's not finished! I mean, I have the notes, but the words are not finished!"

"I will improvise. We must hurry, she is dying!"

Peter and Marbrush rushed back into the room. Aella was still lying on the bed, coughing up a storm. "Hurry," she choked.

Peter gathered his wife up in his arms, and placed her in his lap. "I'm here. Marbrush is here too. He's going to help me, he's going to play his lute and his flute too."

He nodded at Marbrush, who nodded back. Marbrush picked up his lute, and put the small flute in his mouth. It was a type of flute that did not need fingers to function. All it needed was breath and the tongue. Marbrush first blew on his flute, bringing forth an enchanting, spellbinding tune. Then, he began strumming his lute, bringing forth the happiest and brightest song Aella had ever heard. After a few minutes of strumming and flute whistling, Peter began to sing, rocking his wife back and forth in his arms, stroking her hair and face.

_"I found you in the most unlikely way,_

_But really it was you who found me._

_And I found myself in the gifts that you gave,_

_You gave me so much and I_

_I wish you could stay, but I'll _

_I'll wait for the day._

_And I'll watch as the cold winter melts into spring,_

_And I'll be remembering you._

_Oh, and I'll smell the flowers, and hear the birds sing, _

_And I'll be remembering you._

_I'll be remembering you._

_From the first moment, when I heard your name,_

_Something in my heart came alive._

_You showed me love that no words could explain,_

_A love with the power to_

_Open a door to a world I was made for. _

_And I'll watch as the cold winter melts into spring,_

_And I'll be remembering you._

_Oh, and I'll smell the flowers, and hear the birds sing, _

_And I'll be remembering _

_The dark night, the hard fight_

_The long climb up the hill_

_Knowing the cause._

_The brave death, the last breath_

_The silence,_

_Whispering all hope was lost._

_The thunder, the wonder,_

_The power that brings_

_The dead back to life! _

_I wish you could stay, _

_But I'll wait for the day_

_And though you've gone away,_

_You'll come back!_

_And I'll watch as the cold winter melts into spring,_

_And I'll be remembering you._

_Oh, and I'll smell the flowers, and hear the birds sing, _

_And I'll be remembering you!_

_And I'll watch as the sun fills the sky that was dark, _

_And I'll be remembering you,_

_And I'll think of the way that you fill up my heart_

_And I'll be remembering you,_

_I'll be remembering you!_

_I'll be remembering you!_

_I'll be remembering you!_

_I'll be remembering you."_

As the last few notes rang beautifully in the chamber, Aella lifted her hand to Peter's face. Peter could see her eyes dimming, and he knew she was almost gone.

"I love you so much," he whispered.

"I… love you…too," she faltered. She lifted her eyes to the ceiling, and Peter could tell she could no longer see him anymore.

"Griff?" she whispered painfully. "Is… that… you? I can't… I can't come…yet… I have to… tell Peter… and Marbrush… I'll … I'll be… waiting…"

She shuddered, gasping in her last breath. Then, her body turned stone cold and limp, and her head flopped backwards. She was dead.

Peter froze, his face full of shock and grief. Then, he picked up his wife, walked over to the rain-spattered window, and let out a loud bellow of anger, hurt, and loss. He roared so loudly; it shook the entire castle, causing all to tremble in fear.

For days afterwards, King Peter didn't eat, drink, or sleep. When he wasn't sobbing his heart out, he was off riding on his unicorn for days on end, visiting the places that had meaning to him and Aella, including their hill in Beruna, the Beavers' home, even the little cherry tree. He planted rose bushes at every stop he made to honor her memory.

Finally, when he was ready, the funerals were performed. Baby Rose was buried in a cemetery close to the palace. Aella, however, at her request to the doctors, was cremated. One fourth of her ashes were thrown into the sea, another fourth was buried with Rose, another fourth cast into a strong west wind, and the rest was kept in a jar to stay in the palace. Creatures from all over Narnia came to honor Aella and all the great deeds in her life. Oreius and Marbrush both spoke at the service, telling the mourners of Aella and her life, her likes and dislikes, her hopes and dreams, her love for Peter, life, and for all friends that she made.

"Aella loved life the way it was, and she cherished it," said Marbrush. "She always thanked Aslan for all that was good in the world."

"Aella had so many burdens, with the shame of her mother being the White Witch and watching her father die. But she was able to bear them all with a smile on her face," said Oreius. "She was beautiful in mind, body, and soul. She was very lucky she was able to give her love to so many people."

After a few more days of mourning, Peter, Susan, Edmund, Lucy, Oreius, Marbrush, and the Beavers went through Aella's things to pack away, sell, or save. All her weaponry was hung and encased in glass with her portrait in the armory. In fact, those items were still there when the Pevensies returned for the battle with Prince Caspian. Aella's clothes were given to the poor, along with all her jewelry, except her wedding and engagement ring, which Peter saved. And, at the very bottom of her trunk, Peter found a leather-bound, pocket-sized diary. Inside was a record of the battle of Narnia, from the moment Aella first heard of Lucy coming to Narnia, to every conversation she had with Peter, the battle, the coronation, her wedding day, and the last entry was the day she found out she was pregnant with Rose. Peter found a drawstring bag in which he put the diary and Aella's wedding and engagement rings, tied it to his belt, and kept it with him.

One day, the four siblings were hunting down the legendary white stag, and stumbled upon the lamppost that they'd seen years ago when they first came to Narnia. They followed the path, and ended up tumbling out of the wardrobe from whence they came, at the exact day, age, and time they'd left it. They'd turned back into children once more. The only things that had not changed were the bag tied to Peter's belt, and the wedding ring around his finger.

Sixteen, fourteen, thirteen, and eight once more, the Pevensies returned to their home in Finchley after World War II was over. Before doing so, however, Peter left Aella's diary in the Professor's care, asking him to keep it secret should anyone else find out about Narnia. The Professor granted Peter's wish, and did not show the diary to anyone else, not even Clive Staples Lewis, who was collecting evidence of Narnia, and wishing to write about it (this was before the Professor died in the railway accident).

Peter kept his wedding ring on his finger, and had no desire to remove it. He kept it on all through his school years until his death by railway accident at the age of twenty-two. At his request, no one, not even Susan, Edmund, or Lucy, mentioned Aella when Mr. Lewis talked to him or her about Narnia and wrote the story. Even Eustace Scrubb, Jill Pole, and Polly Plummer didn't know about Aella.

The Professor eventually became very poor, and he had to sell his house and most of his belongings. He decided then, to keep from breaking his promise to Peter, to bury the bag with the diary and Aella's rings in the garden, along with the rings he and Polly Plummer had used to get into Narnia years ago. Peter and Edmund left behind the bag when they collected the rings to get Jill and Eustace into Narnia to save King Tirian. Years later, the bag was dug up by accident by a plumber checking the pipes. He gave the diary to his daughter, a fan of the Chronicles of Narnia, who gave it to her daughter, who gave it to me. I then decided to write the story of Aella and Peter, though I will not publish it, for Peter's sake. I can only hope the soul of Peter Pevensie will not be offended. As for the song Peter and Marbrush wrote for Aella, Peter had written it on a piece of paper in the diary. When Mr. Lewis came to interview, he decided to give it to him, but say it was written for Aslan, not Aella, and later wrote it again in the diary. And so, the song was found years later, and was used in the movie made in 2005.

But what happened to Peter? In fact, what happened to all the Pevensies? Well, we know there was a railway accident when Peter was twenty-two, in which he, Edmund, Lucy, Polly, the Professor, Eustace, and Jill died. Their souls were then taken to Narnia once more, where they lived in happiness for all eternity. However, it was not the Narnia they knew. It was Narnia, but it was a more glorious, advanced stage of Narnia. There, they were reunited with all their old friends: Reepicheep the Talking Mouse, the Beavers, Tumnus, Griff, Marbrush, Oreius, Caspian, Puddleglum, and so on.

However, the happiest sight at that place was meant for Peter. For there he saw, once again, his beautiful wife, Aella. She was there along with all the other old friends, still gloriously beautiful and radiant, and, holding her hand, was a young girl of at least fifteen, and she looked exactly like Aella, only she had Peter's piercing blue eyes and sandy hair. It was Rose, their daughter. Peter rushed up to his wife and daughter, crying happily and hugging them tightly and kissing them both. He and his family were reunited in death, and Aella's promise was kept. She and Rose had waited for him, and they were together again at last.

And so, despite her struggles, despite her parentage, despite the hostile and evil environment she grew up in, Aella was able to love more than anyone could ever imagine, and she gave more than anyone else could possibly give. Peter Pevensie taught her that one doesn't need to carry all their burdens, that it is all right to let someone who loves them help to lighten the load and take care of some of the conflicts. Peter loved her, and both he and Aslan taught her to open up to others, instead of isolating and shutting herself out. And so, with love, luck, and a little magic, she finally turned from Aella, daughter of Jadis the White Witch, to Aella, King Peter's wife, Princess and Warrior of Narnia.


End file.
